Skip to main content

Full text of "The songs of Robert Burns, now first printed with the melodies for which they were written; a study in tone-poetry with bibliography, historical notes, and glossary"

See other formats


THE  SONGS 

OF 

ROBERT    BURNS 

NOW  FIRST  PRINTED  WITH  THE  MELODIES 
FOR  WHICH  THEY  WERE  WRITTEN 

A    STUDY  IN    TONE-POETRY 


WITH  BIBLIOGRAPHY,  HISTORICAL  NOTES,  AND 

GLOSSARY 

BY 

JAMES  C.  DICK 

'1 
of 


7'* 


HENRY  FROWDE 

LONDON,  EDINBURGH,  GLASGOW,  AND  NEW  YORK 
1903 


Tf? 


OXFORD :     HORACE    HART 
PRINTER   TO    THE    UNIVERSITY 


To  mark  an  appreciation  of  a  long,  though 

intermittent,     friendship,     I     Dedicate     this 

edition    of    the    Songs     of    Robert    Burns 

and  Collection    of   Folk-Music   to 

JOSEPH   JOACHIM 

MUS.    DOC. 

who,   during    his    life,   has   nobly   sustained 
the   dignity  of  Music 


PREFACE 

IN  bringing  together  for  the  first  time  the  songs  of  Robert 
Burns  with  the  melodies  for  which  they  were  written  I  do  not 
propose  to  criticize  either.  So  far  as  the  verses  are  concerned  they 
have  remained  famous  for  more  than  a  century,  and  are  likely  to 
continue  famous  independent  of  any  literary  criticism.  So  far  as 
the  airs  are  concerned — airs  which  go  to  make  up  the  folk-music 
of  Scotland,  that  particular  form  of  unconscious  art  of  which  the 
vehemence,  pathos,  and  often  eccentric  progressions  have  been 
known  outside  the  limits  of  the  country  for  the  last  250  years — 
want  of  space  forbids  any  criticism.  A  merely  verbal  description 
of  music  cannot  convey  any  real  impression  to  the  general  reader, 
and  an  imperfect  technical  account  of  Scottish  music  would  be 
unsatisfactory  to  the  expert.  Both  will  doubtless  prefer  to  read 
the  music  for  themselves  and  form  their  own  opinions.  For  this 
reason  the  Preface  will  be  confined  to  an  explanation  of  (i) 
Burns's  own  theory  as  a  song-writer,  (2)  how  he  carried  it  into 
practice,  and  (3)  what  his  qualifications  were  for  writing  and 
adapting  his  verses  to  pre-existing  music. 

To  begin  with,  then,  the  term  song  as  it  is  now  used  admits  of 
more  than  one  meaning.  Originally  it  meant — and  was  invari- 
ably—a combination  of  poetry  and  music,  something  to  be  sung. 
It  did  not  mean,  as  it  often  means  nowadays,  verse  with  or  with- 
out tune ;  nor  was  it,  like  the  songs  of  most  modern  poets,  purely 
literary  verse  to  which  music  might  accidentally  be  attached.  For 
Burns's  songs,  peculiarly,  this  latter  meaning  is  insufficient,  and 
I  designate  Burns  a  tone-poet  because  he  wrote  for  music,  and 
his  songs  with  their  airs  are  a  study  in  tone-poetry. 

His  Commonplace  Book  (recording  his  experience  about  the  age 
of  twenty-three,  and  before  he  was  known  to  the  world)  makes 
this  evident,  and  shows  beyond  all  doubt  that  he  always  associated 
music  with  his  songs.  Speaking,  for  example,  of  a  forgotten  old 
song  of  which  he  remembered  that  the  verse  and  the  tune  were 
'  in  fine  unison  with  one  another,'  he  says  that  when  one  would 


vi  PREFACE 

compose  to  these  Scottish  airs  '  to  sough  [hum]  the  tune  over  and 
over  is  the  readiest  way  to  catch  the  inspiration  and  raise  the  Bard 
into  that  glorious  enthusiasm  so  strongly  characteristic  of  our  old 
Scotch  poetry  V  Again,  late  in  life,  when  he  declined  to  write  for 
an  unfamiliar  air,  he  explains  that  until  he  was  master  of  a  tune 
in  his  own  singing  he  never  could  compose  for  it,  adding  that  his 
invariable  way  was  to  consider  the  expression  of  the  music  and 
choose  his  theme,  '  humming  every  now  and  then  the  air  with  the 
verses  I  have  framed  V  So  invariable  with  him  was  this  way  of 
writing  that  his  first  song  was  made  for  the  favourite  reel  of  the 
girl  he  loved,  and  his  last  for  the  'difficult  measure '  of  a  'beautiful 
strathspey';  and  (though  it  may  be  that  he  was  elevating  the 
music  he  wrote  for  at  the  expense  of  his  own  reputation  as  a 
poet)  when  he  said  that  some  of  his  songs  were  often  mere 
rhymes  to  express  airs,  he  spoke  a  literal  truth. 

Nevertheless,  though  he  knew  more  of  the  popular  music  of 
his  country  than  any  man  of  his  time,  and  he  is  unique 3  among 
distinguished  poets  in  writing  for  pre-existing  music,  this  side  of 
him  has  been  rarely  noticed,  if  at  all.  His  achievement  in  the 
reconstruction  of  old  poetry  seems  to  have  blinded  his  critics' 
eyes  to  his  knowledge  of  its  sister  art,  Scottish  music,  of  which 
he  was  the  apostle.  Perhaps  his  very  uniqueness  in  this  respect 
has  caused  it  to  escape  notice.  Old  melodies  as  a  vehicle  for 
song  have  been  despised  or  ignored  by  literary  poets  themselves, 
from  Corneille,  who  execrated  the  commands  of  his  royal  master  to 
write  for  them,  saying  that  a  hundred  verses  cost  him  less  than  two 
words  of  a  song 4  (que  deux  mots  de  chanson] ,  to  Lord  Byron,  who, 
after  trial,  flatly  refused  to  be  harnessed  in  music 5.  And  though 
the  exquisite  songs  of  the  Elizabethan  poets  were  made  to  be  sung, 
and  many  of  them  are  to  be  found  only  in  contemporary  music 
books,  there  is  this  difference  between  their  work  and  Burns,  that 
the  music  was  composed  to  fit  their  words,  but  his  words  were 

1  Commonplace  Book,  1872,^2.  2  Cf.  Note  101. 

3  Unless  we  accept  Marot,  whose  psalms  for  secular  airs  are  still  in  the 
Genevan  Psalter,  and  Luther,  who  led  the  Reformation  by  adopting  popular 
melodies  for  the  hymns  sung  in  the  Reformed  churches. 

*  See  Tiersot's  Chanson  Populaire,  Paris,  1889,  441. 

5  See  an  important  letter  of  Byron  in  Hadden's  George  Thomson,  1898,  191. 


PREFACE  vii 

written  for  music l.  Burns  adopted  what  other  poets  rejected — 
popular  airs — and  he  adopted  them  consciously.  Just  as  when 
he  was  taunted  with  '  the  ignominy  of  the  Excise,'  he  replied  that 
he  would  rather  be  thought  to  do  credit  to  his  profession  than 
borrow  credit  from  it ;  so  when  Thomson  implied  a  censure  on 
his  musical  taste,  he  said  that  although  many  cultured  persons 
found  no  merit  in  his  favourite  tunes,  that  was  no  reason  why 
being  cheaply  pleased  '  I  should  deny  myself  that  pleasure  V  He 
did  not  deny  himself  that  pleasure,  and  as  the  result  his  songs  are 
an  epitome  of  Scottish  music  still  known  and  still  admired. 

Considering  this  it  is  the  more  remarkable  that  Burns's 
biographers  should  with  one  accord  have  ignored  or  omitted 
a  description  of  his  musical  perception  and  his  treatment  of 
music.  One  would  have  thought  that,  apart  from  his  peculiar 
method  of  writing  always  to  airs — a  method  which  probably  goes 
a  long  way  towards  explaining  why  his  songs  have  outlived  and 
made  of  no  account  the  songs  of  so  many  other  poets — his  mere 
musical-editorial  talent  must  have  attracted  notice.  If  he  com- 
municated to  Johnson's  Museum  only  one-half  of  the  forty-five 
traditional  airs  which  Stenhouse  assigns  to  him,  the  record  is 
remarkable  enough  for  an  amateur  musician.  But  his  biographers 
have  not  allowed  him  any  musical  standing  whatever.  Currie 
obviously  accepted  without  comment  Murdoch's  opinion,  who  said 
of  him  that  he  was  a  remarkably  dull  boy  and  his  voice  untunable, 
and  that  it  was  long  before  he  learned  to  distinguish  one  tune 
from  another3.  A  verdict  of  tune- deafness  seems  to  have  been 

1  Dr.  Thomas  Campion,  a  musician  as  well  as  a  poet,  composed  for  his  verses, 
but  the  music,  like  all  conscious  art  of  the  polyphonic  period,  is  now  forgotten 
and  known  only  to  the  student.     All  artistic  music  fades  before  the  continuous 
progress  of  the  art ;  whereas  the  unconscious  and  untutored  music  of  nature, 
the  simple  anonymous  airs  of  the  people,  which  are  the  basis  of  the  art,  remain 
unimpaired  by  age. 

2  Works  of  Robert  Burns  (Edin.  1877-9,  8vo,  6  vols.),  vi.  304. 

3  As  John  Murdoch,  the  only  schoolmaster  of  Burns,  at  the  same  time  said 
that  he  was  the  most  unlikely  boy  to  be  a  poet,  his  observations — from  what 
was  but  an  immature  and  dormant  intellect — may  be  disregarded  in  the  light  of 
what  came  after.      Here  follows  what  Murdoch  said  of  Burns  and  his  brother 
Gilbert : — '  I  attempted  to  teach  them  a  little  church  music.     Here  they  were 
left  far  behind  by  all  the  rest  of  the  school.     Robert's  ear,  in  particular,  was 
remarkably  dull,  and  his  voice  untunable.      It  was  long  before  I  could  get 


viii  PREFACE 


considered  proven  against  Burns,  and  little  or  nothing  said  to 
counteract  the  belief.  So  that  we  find  Tom  Moore  in  1841 
expressing  surprise  that  *  the  rare  art  of  adapting  words  success- 
fully to  notes '  should  have  been  exercised  by  Burns,  c  who  was 
wholly  unskilled  in  music1,'  and  Robert  Chambers,  in  his  garrulous 
Life  of  Burns >  ineptly  remarking  on  the  subject  that  Burns  thought 
himself  a  kind  of  musician.  Thus  widely  may  biographers  miss 
the  point. 

From  the  writings  of  Burns,  and  particularly  from  the  Thomson 
letters  and  MSS.  in  the  British  Museum,  it  is  possible  to  describe 
with  some  accuracy  his  musical  knowledge  and  acquirements.  It 
may  be  granted  at  once  that  about  the  higher  forms  of  the  musical 
art  he  knew  little  and  cared  less.  He  never  heard  a  symphony 
or  a  string  quartette2,  and  though  at  the  houses  of  some  of  his 
friends  he  listened  to  sonatas  on  the  harpsichord,  they  raised  in 
him  neither  emotion  nor  interest.  His  knowledge  of  music  was 
in  fact  elemental ;  his  taste  lay  entirely  in  melody,  without  ever 
reaching  an  appreciation  of  contrapuntal  or  harmonious  music. 
Nor,  though  in  his  youth  he  had  learned  the  grammar  of  music 
and  become  acquainted  with  clefs,  keys,  and  notes  at  the  re- 
hearsals of  church  music,  which  were  in  his  day  a  practical  part 
of  the  education  of  the  Scottish  peasantry s,  did  he  ever  arrive  at 

them  to  distinguish  one  tune  from  another  .  .  .  and  certainly,  if  any  person  who 
knew  the  two  boys  had  been  asked,  which  of  them  was  the  most  likely  to 
court  the  muses,  he  would  surely  never  have  guessed  that  Robert  had  a  pro- 
pensity of  that  kind'  (Currie's  Works  of  Robert  Burns,  Liverpool,  1800, 
i.  p/). 

1  Moore,  in  the  Preface  to  his  Works,  1841,  vol.  v.,  says, '  Robert  Burns  was 
wholly  unskilled  in  music;  yet  the  rare  art  of  adapting  words  successfully  to 
notes,  of  wedding  verse  in  congenial  union  with  melody,  which,  were  it  not  for  his 
example,  I  should  say  none  but  a  poet  versed  in  the  sister  art  ought  to  attempt, 
has  yet,  by  him,  with  the  aid  of  a  music,  to  which  my  own  country's  strains  are 
alone  comparable,  been  exercised  with  so  workmanly  a  hand,  as  well  as  with  so 
rich  a  variety  of  passion,  playfulness,  and  power,  as  no  song-writer,  perhaps,  but 
himself,  has  ever  yet  displayed.'    Farquhar  Graham,  in  his  Notes  on  the  Songs 
of  Scotland,  stated  briefly  the  result  of  an  inquiry  into  the  musical  training 
and   acquirements  of   Burns,   but    it    received   no   attention  and  has  been 
forgotten. 

2  At  a  performance  of  The  Messiah  of  Handel  he  remarked  on  the  infinite 
pathos  of  the  air  '  He  was  despised.' 

3  Currie,  i.  11 


PREFACE  ix 

composition,  except  in  the  case  of  one  melody  which  he  composed 
for  a  song  of  his  own  at  the  age  of  about  twenty-three,  and  this 
melody  displeased  him  so  much  that  he  destroyed  it  and  never 
attempted  another J.  In  the  same  way,  although  he  practised  the 
violin,  he  did  not  attain  to  excellence  in  execution,  his  playing 
being  confined  to  strathspeys  and  other  slow  airs  of  the  pathetic 
kind 2.  On  the  other  hand,  his  perception  and  his  love  of  music 
are  undeniable.  For  example,  he  possessed  copies  of  the  prin- 
cipal collections  of  Scottish  vocal  and  instrumental  music  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  repeatedly  refers  to  them  in  the  Museum 
MS.  and  in  his  letters.  His  copy  of  the  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion  (the  largest  collection  of  Scottish  music),  which  copy 
still  exists  with  pencil  notes  in  his  handwriting,  proves  that  he  was 
familiar  with  the  whole  contents.  At  intervals  in  his  writings  he 
names  at  least  a  dozen  different  collections  to  which  he  refers  and 
from  which  he  quotes  with  a  personal  knowledge.  Also  he  knew 
several  hundred  different  airs,  not  vaguely  and  in  a  misty  way,  but 
accurately  as  regards  tune,  time,  and  rhythm,  so  that  he  could 
distinguish  one  from  another,  and  describe  minute  variations  in 
the  several  copies  of  any  tune  which  passed  through  his  hands. 
The  Thomson  letters  (and  particularly  one  about  September, 
1793,  only  published  in  part  by  Currie)  contain  a  description  or 
criticism  of  over  one  hundred  melodies.  Many  of  the  airs  he 
studied  and  selected  for  his  verses  were  either  pure  instrumental 
tunes,  never  before  set  to  words,  or  the  airs  (from  dance  books)  of 
lost  songs,  with  the  first  lines  as  titles.  That  he  sometimes 
esteemed  the  air  of  a  song  more  than  the  words  is  clear  from  his 
saying,  'Better  to  have  mediocre  verses  to  a  favourite  air  than 
none  at  all  V  It  is  hard  to  believe  that  a  poet  with  such  prefer- 

1  Cf.  Note  31 2. 

2  On  a  private  copy  of  his  Epistle  to  Davie  he  describes  himself  as  a  brother 
fiddler,  and  in  his  humorous  anonymous  letter  to  Sharpe  of  Hoddam  he  styles 
himself  a  fiddler  and  a  poet  (Works,  v.  366], 

8  Note  91.  Compare  his  statement  made  in  requesting  permission  to  insert 
a  song  of  the  Duke  of  Gordon's  in  the  Museum — that  he  was  assisting  in 
collecting  old  poetry  and  for  a  fine  air  making  a  stanza  when  it  had  no  words 
(Works,  iv.  293).  Also  his  apology  for  many  trifling  songs,  which,  as  he 
explains,  are  due  to  the  fact  that  many  beautiful  airs  wanted  words,  and 
he  was  obliged  to  pass  in  a  hurry  what  he  had  written  (Note  19). 


x  PREFACE 

ences  should  have  been  considered  tone-deaf.  Of  his  practical 
acquaintance  with  music,  his  letters  to  his  publishers,  wherein  he 
details  how  he  wrote  for  airs,  where  the  best  sets  of  them  are  to 
be  found,  and  how  he  wished  them  printed  with  his  verses,  show 
the  truth.  Concerning  Song  No.  /2<5,  for  example,  he  gives 
instructions  that  '  the  chorus  is  the  first  or  lower  part  of  the  tune, 
and  each  verse  must  be  repeated  to  go  through  the  high  or  second 
part.'  For  another  song  (No.  152)  he  refers  the  printer  to  the 
book  where  the  music  is  to  be  found.  With  all  the  knowledge 
of  an  antiquarian  he  tells  Thomson  how  the  notation  of  the 
humorous  tune  When  she  cam  ben  she  babbit  should  be  printed  *, 
and  for  another2  he  technically  describes  the  music  as  it  appears 
in  the  collection  where  he  found  it,  with  the  alterations  that  are 
necessary  to  make  it  fit  his  verses. 

Such  instances  go  to  show  the  critical  interest  Burns  took  in 
music.  But  besides  this  it  was  his  practice  to  spend  considerable 
time  in  listening  to  the  playing  of  tunes,  that  he  might  become 
familiar  with  the  correct  swing  and  cadence  of  the  melodies  and 
form  an  impression  of  their  meaning.  Professor  Walker  relates 
how  he  was  calling  on  Burns  in  Edinburgh  for  some  particular 
purpose,  and  found  him  so  engrossed  in  correcting  his  songs,  while 
the  tunes  were  being  played  on  the  harpsichord,  that  he  would 
listen  to  nothing  else.  Burns  himself  tells  Clarinda,  '  I  have  just 
been  composing  to  different  tunes 3,'  and  tells  Cunningham  that 
The  Sitter's  Dochter  l  is  a  first-rate  favourite  of  mine,  and  I  have 
written  what  I  reckon  one  of  my  best  songs  to  it  V  And  it  was 
this  practice  of  listening  to  airs  and  studying  their  meaning  that 
made  of  him  not  merely  an  enthusiastic  collector  of  traditional 
airs,  but  also  the  means  of  getting  them  printed.  At  home, 
during  the  Highland  tours,  and  in  his  excursions  through  the 
South  of  Scotland,  he  collected  unknown  and  rare  melodies  as  if 
it  were  his  business.  As  he  writes  to  Thomson,  '  I  have  still 
several  MS.  Scots  airs  which  I  picked  up  mostly  from  the  singing 
of  country  girls  V  The  book  in  which  he  copied  these  traditional 
airs,  if  it  still  exists,  is  not  known  (though,  as  I  have  said,  Sten- 

1  Note  151.  3  Note  48.  s  Note  84.  *  Note  87. 

*  Works,  vi.  247,  where  he  sends  a  beautiful  little  air  which  he  '  had  taken 
down  from  viva  voce.' 


PREFACE 


XI 


house  assigns  to  him  about  forty-five  of  those  in  the  Museum l) ; 
and  it  has  been  doubted  whether  Burns  was  capable  of  writing 
the  notation  of  viva  voce  airs.  It  is  true  that  Clarke,  the  musical 
editor  of  the  Museum,  often  did  this  for  him  ;  but  it  is  equally  true 
that  Clarke  could  not  always  be  present  when  wanted,  and  it  is 
more  than  probable  that  Burns  in  many  cases  did  it  alone  with  the 
aid  of  his  violin.  For,  gifted  as  he  was  with  a  retentive  memory, 
and — as  has  been  shown — with  an  acute  ear  for  musical  sound, 
combined  with  a  passionate  love  of  Scottish  melody,  his  genius 
would  enable  him  to  do  readily  what  would  be  laborious  for  an 
ordinary  amateur,  nor  can  I  see  any  reason  why  his  remark, 
'  I  took  down  the  tune  from  the  voice  of  a  girl,'  or  some  other 
unconditional  statement,  should  not  be  accepted  literally.  In 
fact  he  obtained  many  of  the  fugitive  airs  from  his  wife,  who  was 
a  good  natural  singer,  and  from  Kirsty  Flint,  among  others,  a 
masculine  woman  who  took  pleasure  in  showing  off  her  vocal 
powers  to  him  2.  Two  of  the  best  airs  discovered  by  Burns  were 
obtained  in  the  same  manner ;  one,  Co?  the  Yvwes 3,  from  the  voice 
of  a  friendly  minister  of  the  Kirk,  and  Craigieburn  Wood*  (for 
which  he  wrote  two  sets  of  verses)  from  the  singing  of  a  girl.  He 
first  heard  the  Gaelic  air  of  Song  No.  ^/,  The  Banks  of  the  Devon, 
from  a  lady  in  Inverness,  and  '  got  the  notes  taken  down '  for  the 
Museum,  and  obtained  for  Johnson  a  better  set  of  the  tune  of 
No.  797  than  that  supplied  by  Dr.  Blacklock 5. 

So  much  for  Burns's  musical  experience,  about  which  there  is 
little  more  to  say,  except  that  he  was  himself  a  mediocre  vocalist 
with  a  rough  but  not  an  untunable  voice.  He  was  constrained 
in  company  sometimes  to  sing,  but  he  was  conscious  of  his  defect, 
and  avoided  any  exhibition  of  the  kind  as  much  as  possible6. 
But  though  his  musical  training  and  practice  may  have  been  no 

1  The  MSS.  of  most  of  his  historical  and  traditionary  airs  have  disappeared, 
except  two  or  three  pieces  from  his  hand,  of  which  one,  The  German  lairdie,  is 
now  printed  for  the  first  time  on  p.  336. 

2  Professor  Gillespie,  from  personal  observation,  related  how  Burns  was  in  the 
habit  of  tying  his  horse  outside  her  cottage  door  and  sitting  by  her  fireside  while 
she  sang  '  with  a  pipe  of  the  most  overpowering  pitch.' 

3  No.  114,  *  No.  go. 

5  Extensive  references  to  Burns  and  music  will  be  found  on  p.  535  infra. 

6  To  a  friend,  no  more  gifted  than  himself,  he  exclaimed,  '  Heaven  knows  we 
are  no  singers  ! '  (Works,  v. 364). 


xii  PREFACE 

more  than  that  of  any  ordinary  amateur,  his  attachment  to  melody 
and  wide  knowledge  of  Scottish  music,  together  with  his  genius, 
fully  equipped  him  for  writing  verse  to  illustrate  the  anonymous 
airs  of  his  country. 

It  was  in  the  year  1787  that  Burns's  opportunity  came,  and  he 
was  able  to  get  his  verses  published  with  music.  From  that  time 
forwards  he  wrote  scarcely  anything  else  but  songs.  For  the  mere 
love  of  the  thing,  and  without  fee  or  reward,  ungrudgingly  he 
worked  day  and  night  for  the  last  nine  years  of  his  life  to  illus- 
trate the  airs  of  Scotland,  and  he  died  with  the  pen  in  his  hand. 
His  farming  brought  him  no  riches,  his  business  of  gauger  only 
weariness,  his  songs  nothing  at  all — then.  But  it  is  by  his  songs 
that  he  is  best  known  and  will  be  longest  remembered.  This  he 
forecast  himself:  yet,  curiously  enough,  only  sixteen  songs  are  in 
the  last  authorized  edition  of  his  Works  \  though  by  this  time  he 
had  probably  contributed  upwards  of  two  hundred  to  both  John- 
son's Museum  and  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs.  These  he  never 
publicly  claimed,  only  disclosing  himself  as  the  author  of  some  of 
them  in  private  letters  to  intimate  friends2.  So  that  besides 
working  voluntarily  and  simultaneously  for  these  two  collectors — 
neither  of  whom  Would  have  succeeded  without  his  constant  help 
— he  even  denied  himself  the  name  of  author s. 

A  few  words  about  the  general  musical  rage  of  this  time,  and 
about  these  two  music  books  in  particular,  may  be  useful  at  this 
place.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  when  Burns  began  to  write 

1  Edition  of  1 794. 

3  It  is  important  to  remember,  as  a  consequence  of  this,  that  all  his  songs  in 
modern  editions  of  his  Works  (except  a  fraction)  have  been  accumulated  by 
degrees,  and  are  the  insertions  of  a  succession  of  editors.  When  Burns  resolved 
in  1 796  to  publish  a  musical  selection  of  his  songs,  death  prevented  him  from 
carrying  the  resolution  into  effect  (Works,  vi.  2jj}. 

8  With  the  exception  of  a  few  songs  bearing  his  name  in  the  Index,  all  his 
writings  in  Johnson's  Museum  were  published  anonymously  during  his  life. 
His  name  is  attached  to  a  large  number  of  songs  in  many  copies  of  the  Museum, 
but  not  in  those  of  the  first  issue ;  the  insertion  of  it  in  later  reprints  being 
posthumous.  Many  erroneous  inferences  have  been  drawn  from  the  assumption 
that  Burns  acknowledged  the  insertion  of  his  name.  Compare  the  copy  of  the 
Museum  in  the  British  Museum,  where  Burns's  songs  in  vols.  ii.-v.  are  all 
anonymous,  except  a  few  with  B.  and  R.  marked  by  the  publisher.  A  description 
of  the  original  edition  of  the  Museum  is  in  the  Bibliography  following.  I 
possess  three  copies  of  some  of  the  early  volumes,  all  with  different  title-pages. 


PREFACE  xiii 

for  the  Museum  he  had  comparatively  only  a  small  number  of 
vocal  airs  to  choose  from.  In  all  the  various  collections  pub- 
lished up  to  1787  there  were  not  two  hundred  different  Scottish 
airs  printed  with  verses,  and  of  these  Johnson  had  utilized  a  good 
proportion  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Museum — that  is,  before 
Burns  became  connected  with  it.  The  greater  number,  therefore, 
of  the  airs  for  which  Burns  wrote  were  only  to  be  found  in  instru- 
mental or  dance  books,  and  consisted  of  pure  reels  and  strathspeys, 
which  had  never  before  had  words,  or  of  the  tunes  of  lost  and 
forgotten  songs  *. 

In  these  numerous  instrumental  collections  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  particularly  those  of  the  latter  half,  when  Burns 
flourished,  is  stored  the  most  characteristic  Scottish  music  in 
peculiar  scales  and  with  eccentric  intervals.  Never  before  had 
there  been  such  a  plentiful  crop  of  Scottish  dance  and  other 
music,  and  never  has  there  been  since.  Dancing  in  Scotland2 
had  reached  its  climax.  In  Edinburgh  every  coterie  had  'Assem- 
blies,' and  each  of  the  resident  dancing-masters  followed  suit. 
Captain  Topham  3,  on  a  visit  to  Edinburgh,  was  amazed  at  the 
vigorous  dancing  practised  in  the  Northern  Capital.  Every  class 
indulged  in  it — duchess  and  housemaid  and  grave  professor  alike 
— and  danced  for  dancing's  sake.  And  it  was  to  find  appropriate 
words  for  some  of  these  dance  tunes  that  Burns  set  himself. 
Before  he  could  do  this  he  was  obliged  to  study  their  accent 
and  rhythm.  This  was  no  difficult  task  for  him  as  long  as  he 
was  free  to  choose  or  reject ;  but  when  the  egregious  Thomson 
not  only  selected  airs  for  him,  but  tried  even  to  dictate  the  ortho- 
graphy of  his  text,  it  became  hard  enough.  'These  English 
verses  gravel  me  to-death,'he  groans  ;  or,  when  criticized,  declines 
to  alter  his  words,  and  says  with  regard  to  a  disliked  air,  '  the  stuff 
won't  bear  mending.'  And,  as  a  result  of  his  compliance  in  other 
cases,  the  Thomson  series  contain — among  a  number  of  brilliant 

1  In  some  cases  Burns  utilized  the  whole  tune,  in  others  he  selected  particular 
movements  or  measures  of  the  air  for  the  verses  he  proposed  to  write. 

2  At  the  close  of  the  century  reels  and  strathspeys  became  fashionable  in 
London,  and  the  habitues  of  Almack's  engaged  Niel  Gow,  the  famous  fiddler  in 
the  North,  to  lead  the  music  in  their  ball-room. 

3  Letters  from  Edinburgh,  1776,  262. 


xiv  PREFACE 


songs — many  no  better  than  the  average  artificial  product  of  the 
eighteenth-century  song  books,  and  quite  beneath  the  standard  of 
the  genius  of  Burns  \ 

Nevertheless  it  was  from  his  intimate  connexion  with  this  pub- 
lication and  with  the  Scots  Musical  Museum  that  Burns  became  an 
extensive  writer  of  songs.     To  Scotish  Airs  he  contributed  verses, 
partly  at  his  own  discretion,  partly  at  the  request  of  the  proprietor 
— though  in  neither  case  had  he  power  to  decide  what  should 
be  published 2.     Of  the  Museum  he  was  the  real  though  concealed 
editor  from  a  little  after  the  time  when,  being  engaged  then  in 
correcting  the  proofs  of  the  Edinburgh  edition  of  his  Works,  he 
made  Johnson's  acquaintance.     James  Johnson  was  a  practical 
engraver  in  Edinburgh.     In  February,  1787,  with  the  assistance 
of  two  gentlemen  interested  in  the  anthology  of  Scotland,   he 
had  projected  and  advertised  a  '  Collection  of  Scots,  English,  and 
Irish  Songs  in  two  neat  8vo  volumes.  .  .  .'     The  first  volume  was 
nearly  ready  when  Johnson  met  Burns,  and  it  is  surmised  that  Burns 
suggested  the  title  of  Scots  Musical  Museum,  under  which  title  the 
volume — despite  the  more    accurate  description  given  of  it  in 
the  advertisement — appeared  in  May.     Burns  eagerly  grasped  the 
opportunity  of  associating  himself  with  a  work  which  eventually 
he  remodelled  and  extended  into  six  volumes.     His  position  of 
author,  editor,  and  contributor  of  verse  became  more  and  more 
established  as  the  original  advisers  of  the  publication  fell  into  the 
rear.     His  sole  assistant  was  a  professional  musician,  Stephen 
Clarke,  who  corrected  technical  errors  in  the  music  and  fitted  the 
tunes   for   presentation   to   the  public   in   the  prescribed   form. 
Johnson  was  unfitted  to  conduct  any  work  of  the  kind.     He  was 
of  a  simple  confiding  nature,  entirely  illiterate,  and  as  poor  as 
Burns  himself.     However,  like  Burns  also,  he  was  an  enthusiast 
for  the  Songs  of  Scotland.     He  undertook  the  cost  of  printing 

1  The  peculiar  'rhythm  of  the  Caledonian  Hunt's  Delight  only  fetched  one 
poor  stanza  of  English  verses,  although  it  is  the  popular  and  favourite  air  of  the 
vernacular  Banks  6*  Doon  (No.  123).  The  beautiful  strathspey  Rothiemurche 
for  his  last  song  (No.  12)  is  practically  obscured '  because  he  was  constrained 
to  write  verses  of  the  ordinary  sort  to  please  Thomson. 

a  There  were  fundamental  differences  between  Burns  and  Thomson,  for  which 
reason  Scotish  Airs  contains  a  large  number  of  Burns's  songs  with  editorial 
insertions  (both  in  verse  and  air)  for  which  Burns  is  in  no  way  responsible. 


PREFACE 


xv 


and  publishing  the  work.  Burns  neither  expected  nor  received 
reward,  and  the  tacit  understanding  between  the  two  continued, 
and  the  connexion  remained  unbroken,  up  to  the  death  of  Burns 
in  1796.  Burns  always  knew  Johnson  as  an  'honest  worthy 
fellow,'  and  in  his  first  extant  letter  said  that  he  had  '  met  with 
few  whose  sentiments  were  so  congenial  with  his  own/  Johnson 
seems  to  have  belonged  to  the  social  Crochallan  Club,  and  must 
have  had  some  qualifications  to  be  admitted  as  one  of  its  members, 
considering  that  among  them  were  '  rantin  roarin  Willy '  Dunbar, 
the  President ;  the  grisly  philosopher — printer  Smellie ;  the  iras- 
cible Latinist  Nicol,  the  writer  Cunningham,  '  auld  Tennant ' 
of  Glenconner,  Masterton  the  composer  of  Willy  brew'd  a  peck 
0'  maut,  and  probably  Henry  Erskine,  the  most  brilliant  member 
of  the  Scottish  bar.  This  was  the  society  in  which  Burns  re- 
created himself  after  dining  with  more  formal  company  in  the 
then  New  Town. 

It  was  after  the  inspiring  Highland  tours,  in  which  Burns  had 
laid  in  a  good  stock  of  new  poetic  ideas,  that  he  set  to  work  in 
Edinburgh  to  reorganize  the  Museum.  The  venerable  author  of 
Tullochgorum,  and  other  friends,  were  put  under  contribution,  so 
much  so  that  about  this  time  Burns  informed  a  correspondent 
that  he  had  '  collected,  begged,  borrowed,  and  stolen  all  the 
songs '  he  could  find *.  An  accident  which  confined  him  to  the 
house  for  a  considerable  time  enabled  him  within  ten  months 
from  the  publication  of  the  first  volume  to  issue  the  second  volume 
of  a  hundred  songs,  of  which  forty  were  his  own,  all  bright  and 
merry  and  flashing  with  wit  and  humour.  In  the  buoyant  and 
aggressive  preface  he  remarks  that  '  ignorance  and  prejudice  may 
perhaps  affect  to  sneer  at  the  simplicity  of  the  poetry  or  music  of 
some  of  these  pieces,  but  their  having  been  for  ages  the  favourites 
of  Nature's  judges — the  common  people — was  to  the  Editor  a  suf- 
ficient test  of  their  merit.'  Here  we  have  partly  exposed  the  reason 
why  Bums  concealed  himself,  and  the  meaning  of  the  phrase  put 
against  many  of  his  songs,  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words.' 

The  third  volume,  containing  a  c  flaming  preface,'  took  nearly 
twc  years  to  complete  and  publish.  During  the  interval  he  was 


1  Works,  iv.  298. 


xvi  PREFACE 

partly  in  Mauchline  and  partly  at  Ellisland — a  period  which 
included  many  sorrows,  ending  in  a  prudent  marriage  and  a  soli- 
tary residence  on  the  banks  of  the  Nith  preparing  a  home  for  his 
wife.  Such  was  his  life  while  he  wrote  the  Honeymoon  and  other 
songs *  for  the  Museum. 

More  than  fifty  songs  in  this  third  volume  are  his  own,  and 
during  the  process  of  preparation  for  the  press  he  was  constantly 
informed  of  the  progress  of  the  volume  and  exhibited'  the  greatest 
interest  in  it.  He  asks  Johnson  *  to  send  any  tunes  or  anything 
to  correct,'  and  afterwards  tells  him  that  when  he  comes  to  Edin- 
burgh he  will  overhaul  the  whole  collection. 

Immediately  after  the  publication  of  the  fourth  volume,  in 
August,  1792,  the  attention  of  Burns  was  diverted  from  the  Museum 
by  the  intervention  of  George  Thomson,  and  four  years  elapsed  be- 
tween the  appearance  of  the  fourth  and  the  posthumous  fifth  volume, 
which,  however,  was  all  sketched  and  nearly  ready  for  publication 
at  the  poet's  death.  Thus,  about  the  end  of  1793,  Burns  informed 
Johnson  that  he  was  laying  out  materials  for  the  fifth  volume ;  a  few 
months  later  he  sent  '  forty-one  songs,'  and  still  later  he  requests 
that  'those  tunes  and  verses  that  Clarke  and  you  cannot  make 
out'  should  be  sent  to  him.  In  June,  1794,  Johnson  intimated 
that  the  fifth  volume  was  actually  begun.  In  March,  1795,  Burns 
returned  a  packet  of  songs,  and  a  -year  afterwards  had  proofs  sent 
him  to  correct.  In  this  way  Burns  knew  the  contents  of  the 
posthumous  volume,  which  was  indeed  far  advanced  in  the  press 
when  he  died.  The  surplus  songs  left  over  from  this  and  the 
previous  volumes  constitute  nearly  one-third  of  the  last  and 
sixth  volume,  yet  it  .took  Johnson  seven  years  to  complete  and 
publish  it. 

The  Scots  Musical  Museum  remains  the  standard  collection  of 
Scottish  Song,  and  as  a  work  of  reference  cannot  be  superseded. 
Considerably  more  than  one-half  of  the  pieces  in  the  following 
pages  were  originally  published  there,  and  next  to  the  authorized 

1  A  facsimile,  which  follows  the  Bibliography,  of  the  holograph  list  of  songs 
proposed  for  the  third  volume  and  heretofore  unnoticed  is  an  important 
document.  It  discloses  Burns  as  the  author  of  a  considerable  number  of  songs 
hitherto  unsuspected  and  anonymous,  among  which  may  be  named  Sir  John 
Cope  (No.  297),  The  Campbells  are  comin  (No.  jj6*),  Johnie  Blunt  (No.  jjj}} 
and  many  others. 


PREFACE  xvii 

editions  it  is  the  most  important  authority  on  the  works  of  Burns. 
It  contains,  moreover,  his  most  happy  and  spontaneous  effusions, 
published  with  their  melodies,  as  he  wrote  them,  free  from  outside 
interference.  Johnson  without  remark  acted  upon  instructions, 
accepted  what  was  sent  to  him,  and  printed  the  verses  with  the 
tunes  selected.  And  Burns,  by  portraying  in  that  collection  the 
morals  and  manners  of  his  tountry  with  a  rare  fidelity  and 
sympathetic  humour,  became  famous. 

But  in  the  meanwhile  Burns  had  become  associated  with 
another  publication.  Immediately  after  the  appearance  of  the 
fourth  volume  of  Johnson's  Museum,  George  Thomson,  a  govern- 
ment clerk  and  amateur  musician  (who,  by  the  way,  always  de- 
spised the  Museum),  applied  to  Burns  to  assist  him  with  verses 
for  a  collection  of  twenty-five  Scottish  airs  which  he  would  select. 
He  said  he  wanted  the  poetry  improved  for  'some  charming 
melodies,'  and  he  would  '  spare  neither  pains  nor  expense  in  the 
publication.'  He  declared  himself  in  favour  of  '  English '  verses, 
which  English  '  becomes  more  and  more  the  language  of  Scotland ' ; 
and  he  said  elsewhere,  but  not  to  Burns,  that  the  vernacular  was 
to  be  avoided  as  much  as  possible,  '  because  young  people  are 
taught  to  consider  it  vulgar,'  and,  with  an  eye  to  business,  'we 
must  accommodate  our  tastes  to  our  readers.'  How  the  partner- 
ship with  this  opportunist  in  art  was  maintained  is  set  out  in  the 
long  series  of  letters  now  in  Brechin  Castle.  It  is  amusing  to 
remember  that  Thomson,  who  engaged  Burns  to  destroy  the 
Scottish  vernacular,  should  have  been  the  unconscious  instrument 
of  its  preservation.  *  Burns,  although  fully  occupied  with  Johnson, 
promptly  accepted  the  invitation  conveyed  to  him,  but  with  con- 
ditions. He  would  accept  no  wages,  fee,  or  hire,  he  would  alter 
no  songs  unless  he  could  amend  them,  and  his  own  would  be 
'  either  above  or  below  price,'  and,-  if  not  approved,  they  could  be 
rejected  without  offence.  •'  I  have  long  ago,'  he  says,  '  made  up 
my  mind  as  to  my  reputation  of  authorship,  and  have  nothing  to 
be  pleased  or  offended  at  your  adoption  or  rejection  of  my  verses.' 

The  conventional  clerk,  who  was  very  early  impressed  with  the 
genius,  enthusiasm,  and  industry  of  his  correspondent,  rapidly 
extended  his  aim,  and  resolved  to  include  in  his  collection  « every 
Scotch  air  and  song  worth  singing.'  All  through  the  long  corre- 

b 


xviii  PREFACE 


spondence  he  tenaciously  held  his  original  opinion  of  '  English ' 
verses  and  his  choice  of  airs.  So  far  he  had  the  best  of  the 
arrangement,  for  Burns  wrote  many  pieces  which  he  disapproved, 
and  for  airs  which  he  disliked.  Only  five  songs  written  for  Scot- 
ish  Airs  were  published  in  Burns's  lifetime,  and  these  are  more 
or  less  incorrectly  printed.  For  the  rest,  Thomson  was  under  no 
control,  and  without  compunction  ^altered  the  text  when  it  suited 
him,  added  stanzas,  and  adapted  them  for  unauthorized  airs. 
There  was,  as  I  have  said,  little  sympathy  between  the  two  men. 
Thomson  cared  nothing  for  a  human  lyric,  and  preferred  the 
insipid  compositions  then  current.  Burns  told  him  '  exotic  rural 
imagery  is  always  comparatively  flat,'  and,  in  another  place,  '  You 
are  apt  to  sacrifice  simplicity  in  a  ballad  for  pathos,  sentiment,  and 
point.'  Again,  he  tries  to  console  Thomson  by  saying  that  the 
English  singer  will  find  no  difficulty  in  the  sprinkling  of  the  Scot- 
tish language  in  his  songs l ;  or  refuses  pointblank  to  change  the 
orthography  of  a  piece  with  the  remark,  '  I'll  rather  write  a  new 
song  altogether  than  make  this  English  V  But  Thomson  meddled 
and  muddled  on  without  regarding  him.  Airs  and  verses  alike 
had  to  submit  to  his  editorial  jurisdiction.  Burns  had  to  complain 
that  the  accent  of  his  The-lea  rig  had  been  altered,  and  advised 
him  to  '  let  our  natural  airs  preserve  their  native  features.'  But 
Thomson  preferred  his  own  way;  and  when  Burns  refused  to 
rewrite  some  disputed  lines,  he  altered  them  for  him.  'The  story 
of  Scots  wha  hae  (which  I  have  told  in  Note  255)  illustrates 
particularly  the  fashion  in  which  Burns  was  constrained  to  change 
metre  in  order  to  have  his  ode  fitted  to  a  melody  which  he  had 
not  contemplated.  And  though  most  of  the  songs  written  for 
Thomson  were  spontaneous,  and  sent  to  him  for  approval,  he 
would  never  return  those  he  considered  unsuitable,  but  retained 
them  in  the  manner  described.  Nevertheless,  shortly  before 
Burns  died,  he  assigned  to  Thomson  without  consideration  the 
absolute  copyright  of  the  songs  he  had  sent  to  him. 

Thus  Scotish  Airs,  in  five  sumptuous  folio  volumes  completed  in 
1818,  came  to  contain  much  of  the  text  of  Burns  in  an  untrust- 
worthy form.   Its  airs,  too,  with  their  many  editorial  improvements, 
are  to  be  disregarded  as  too  artificial.     When  it  is  known  that 
1  Works,  vi.  24^.  a  Note  51. 


PREFACE 


xix 


Thomson  had  the  audacity  to  suggest  alterations  in  the  composi- 
tions of  the  great  Beethoven a,  who  told  him  that  his  music  was 
not  written  for  schoolgirls,  no  one  need  wonder  that  the  songs  of 
the  amiable  Burns  were  altered  and  excised.  The  most  that  can 
be  said  for  the  collection  is  that  it  is  interesting  in  so  far  as  it  con- 
tains accompaniments  by  some  eminent  composers,  who  failed  in 
what  they  attempted ;  and  for  Thomson  the  most  that  can  be 
said  is  that  in  selecting  the  famous  air  for  the  verses  of  Auld  Lang 
Syne,  he  achieved  a  success  which  covers  a  multitude  of  sins. 

Since  I  am  resolved,  for  want  of  space,  not  to  enter  in  this 
Preface  upon  any  criticism,  nor  yet  to  insist  (further  than  is  neces- 
sary for  an  explanation  of  the  purposes  of  this  book)  on  the 
musical  aspect  of  Burns's  songs  so  uniquely  made  to  melodies, 
nothing  really  remains  to  be  said  except  a  few  words  about  the 
TEXT.  This,  which  is  unexpurgated,  has  been  drawn  from  original 
MSS.  and  the  authorized  editions,  and  from  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  and  it  is  collated  with  the  two  modern  standard  editions 
of  the  Works  of  Burns.  I  have  left  unnoticed,  with  a  few  excep- 
tions, readings  in  the  various  writings  of  the  poet  other  than  those 
here  selected.  Every  song  and  ballad  which  could  be  published 
is  entire,  and  the  collection  is  so  complete  that  it  includes  many 
pieces  now  printed  for  the  first  time  as  Burns's  work.  The  greater 
number  of  these  pieces  appeared  originally  in  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum  from  Burns's  MSS.,  most  of  which  are  still  available  for 
reference.  More  or  less  all  have  been  reprinted  as  anonymous 
in  miscellaneous  publications.  The  chief  authority  for  inserting 
many  of  them  is  Law's  MS.  List.  This  list  confirms  many 
statements  of  Stenhouse,  who  had  the  Museum  MSS*  through 
his  hands  early  in  the  nineteenth  century.  As  regards  those 
pieces  which  Burns  himself  has  .designated  '  Mr.  Burns's  old 
words,'  the  evidence  is  for  the  most  part  negative,  and  further 
investigation  may  reveal  that  the  original  publication  was  earlier 
than  Burns.  The  presumption  is  that  some  of  the  narrative  or 
historical  ballads  previously  existed  in  some  form  ;  but  how  little 
or  how  much  Burns  altered  or  amended  is  unknown  to  me  except 

1  A  German  editor  asserts  that  in  the  Scottish  collection  Thomson  has 
'  not  only  incorrectly  printed,  but  wilfully  altered  and  abridged  '  the  music  of 
Beethoven  (Hadden's  George  Thomson,  345). 


xx  PREFACE 


in  so  far  as  is  recorded  in  the  Notes,  which  are  the  result  of  an 
examination  of  several  hundred  song  books  of  the  seventeenth 
and  eighteenth  centuries.  Until  positive  evidence  is  produced 
they,  with  many  others,  may  remain  at  least  as  editorial  originals 
of  Burns.  Among  the  original  authorities  which  I  have  consulted 
it  is  necessary  to  name  the  interleaved  Scots  Musical  Museum,  in 
which  Burns  wrote  a  large  number  of  *  Strictures  '  or  Notes  on 
Scottish  Song.  By  a  singular  fatality  these  four  important  volumes 
have  not  been  publicly  examined  until  now  for  nearly  a  century. 
They  contain  an  unsuspected  holograph  copy  of  Auld  Lang  Syne, 
which  is  printed  ,on  page  208.  In  the  Notes  the  numerous  wilful 
and  negligent  errors  in  Cromek's  Reliques  of  Robert  Burns  (1808) 
are  now  pointed  out  for  the  first  time  and  corrected/and  an  abstract 
of  Cromek's  misdee4s  will  be  found  in  the  Bibliography  following. 

For  the  303  AIRS  the  AUTHORITIES  are  the  poet's  writings  and 
—occasionally  —  Johnson's  Museum.  The  tunes  in  that  collection, 
in  a  few  cases,  are  not  those  selected  by  Burns,  for  the  reason 
that  the  latter  had  previously  appeared  in  the  first  volume  of  the 
collection  with  other  verses.  Certain  of  Burns's  songs  have  not. 
until  now  been  printed  with  any  air.  Such,  for  example,  are  the 
best  set  of  verses  of  The  Banks  o1  Doon  ('  Ye  flowery  banks  o' 
Bonie  Doon'),  and  the  powerful  invective,  The  Kirk's  Alarm 
('  Orthodox,  orthodox  !  wha  believe  in  John  Knox  '),  which  few 
realize  is  a  song  at  all  ;  and  '  Amang  the  trees  where  humming 
bees  '  to  the  curious  air  The  King  o'  France  he  rade  a  race.  On 
the  other  hand,  many  songs  are  nearly  always  published  with  wrong 
airs.  Among  others  Rantin  rovin  Robin  and  '  The  gloomy  night  is- 
gathering  fast,'  which  belongs  to  the  beautiful  air  Roslin  Castle. 

The  TUNES  have  been  drawn  from  early  MSS.  and  from  the  • 
numerous  vocal  and  instrumental  collections  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  including  the  Museum.  Two  are  from  the  MSS.  of 
Burns  and  therefore  interesting,  and  a  few  are  rare  examples. 
If  there  has  been  any  system  in  selecting  any  particular  set  of  the 
tune,  it  has  been  to  form  a  representative  collection  of  examples 
from  the  earliest  sources  to  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
sometimes  even  at  the  expense  of  the  verses.  Some  of  the  airs  are 
at  least  three  hundred  years  old,  and  obviously  none  are  less  than 
a  hundred.  Excluding  the  exceptional  English  and  Irish  airs, 


WJL 

V«l'  M^  ^W 


PREFACE  xxi 

they  form  an  epitome  of  Scottish  music  which  probably  would 
have  been  more  attractive  to  the  general  reader  with  pianoforte 
accompaniments.  But  this  is  not  a  music  book  in  the  modern 
sense,  only  a  quarry  for  the  constructive  composer  and  for  the 
student  of  folk-songs.  Most  of  the  airs  are  anonymous.  They 
floated  in  the  air  for  an  indefinite  time  until  caught  and  chained 
by  the  printing-press.  Of  a  few  alone  are  the  composers  known, 
those  by  the  friends  of  the  poet,  too  amiably  adopted,  being 
among  the  worst  in  the  collection,  with  the  brilliant  exception  of 
Willie  breufd  a  peck  o'  maut. 

I  have  only  to  add  that,  although  great  care  has  been  taken  in 
revising  and  correcting  the  NOTES,  it  would  be  vain  to  expect  that 
all  the  references  are  complete.  To  discover  the  historical  origin 
of  the  airs,  much  time  has  been  spent  in  the  examination  of  a  large 
number  of  musical  collections,  and  those  who  have  experience  of 
research  among  undated  books  will  most  readily  forgive  editorial 
imperfections  and  errors  which  have  escaped  notice  in  revision. 

My  thanks  are  due  for  much  valuable  assistance  in  the  compila- 
tion of  this  volume.  Among  others  I  am  indebted  to  the  late 
Thomas  Law,  of  Littleborough,  for  permission  to  insert  a  facsimile 
of  the  original  MS.  of  Burns,  which  is  referred  to  under  the  title 
Law's  MS.  List,  and  also  for  the  loan  of  the  copy  of  the  Caledo- 
nian Pocket  Companion,  which  belonged  to  Burns  ;  to  the  Scottish 
Text  Society  for  permission  to  reprint  the  verses  of  Welcum 
Fortoun^  on  p.  xxix,  from  The  Gude  and  Godlie  Ballatis,  1897 ; 
to  Mr.  George  Gray,  of  the  County  Buildings,  Glasgow,  for  the 
use  of  the  detached  sheets  which  are  referred  to  in  the  Notes  as 
Gray's  MS.  Lists,  and  for  the  use  of  some  rare  song  books  ;  to 
Mr.  John  Glen,  of  Edinburgh,  for  the  dates  of  publication  of  some 
scarce  musical  collections,  and  for  the  loan  of  old  music  books 
and  assistance  in  tracing  airs;  to  Miss  Oakshott,  of  Arundel 
Square,  Barnsbury,  London,  who  permitted  me  to  copy  for  in- 
sertion the  Notes  of  Burns  in  the  Interleaved  Museum ;  and, 
though  last  not  least,  to  Professor  Joseph  Wright,  of  Oxford,  the 
editor  of  the  colossal  Dialect  Dictionary,  for  valuable  suggestions 
in  compiling  the  Glossary. 

ii  OSBORNE  AVENUE, 
NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE, /#/*>,  1903. 


CONTENTS 


PREFACE  .... 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

FACSIMILE  OF  BURNS'S  MS. 

SONGS  :  VERSE  AND  AIR. 
I.  LOVE  :  PERSONAL 
II.  LOVE  :  GENERAL 

III.  LOVE  :  HUMOROUS 

IV.  CONNUBIAL 

V.  BACCHANALIAN  AND  SOCIAL 
VI.  THE  JOLLY  BEGGARS  . 
VII.  PATRIOTIC  AND  POLITICAL  . 
VIII.  JACOBITE     . 
IX.  MISCELLANEOUS  . 

APPENDIX  :  UNCERTAIN 
„  UNKNOWN 

HISTORICAL  NOTES  .        .        .        . 

GLOSSARY 

INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES  . 
INDEX  OF  TUNES 


PAGE 
v 

xxv 


i 
101 

*S° 
187 

202 
219 
230 

259 

288 

343 
349 

35i 
504 
519 
529 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


I.    WORKS    OF    BURNS. 

[Burns  was  born  January  25,  1759 ;  he  wrote  his  first  song  in  the  autumn  of 
J773  or  J774  5  published  the  first  edition  of  his  Works  in  1786,  and  the  last  in 
1794.  His  connexion  with  Johnson's  Scots  Musical  Museum  began  in  the 
spring  or  summer  of  1787,  and  with  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs  in  September, 
1792,  and  he  continued  to  contribute  to  both  collections  until  his  death  on 
July  21,  1796.  The  Bibliography  of  Burns  in  the  '  Memorial  Catalogue  of  the 
Burns  Exhibition,  1896.  Glasgow:  Hodge,  1898,'  describes  696  editions  of 
the  Works  of  Burns  published  in  the  United  Kingdom.] 

Hastie  MSS.,  in  the  British  Museum  (No.  22,307),  include  162  songs,  mostly 
in  the  handwriting  of  Burns,  which  he  contributed  to  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum.  * 

Dalhousie  MS.,  in  Brechin  Castle,  consists  of  Letters  to  George  Thomson, 
and  songs  intended  for  publication  in  Scotish  Airs.  - 

Gray's  MS.  Lists,  belonging  to  George  Gray,  Esq.,  of  the  County  Buildings, 
Glasgow,  are  a  number  of  detached  sheets  containing  the  titles  of  songs  pro- 
posed for  insertion  in  the  second  and  subsequent  volumes  of  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum.  The  lists  are  partly  in  the  handwriting  of  Burns  and  partly  in  that 
of  James  Johnson. 

Law's  MS.  List,  lately  in  the  possession  of  William  Law,  Littleborough, 
is  a  holograph  of  Burns,  entitled  '  List  of  Songs  for  3rd  Volume  of  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum]  which  he  sent  to  Johnson  in  a  letter  dated  April  24,  1 789. 
This  MS.,  now  referred  to  for  the  first  time,  definitely  settles  the  authorship  of 
many  songs,  some  of  which  in  the  foHowing  pages  are  printed  for  the  first  time 
as  the  work  of  Burns.  See  facsimile  following. 

Glenriddell  MSS.,  in  the  Athenaeum  Library,  Liverpool,  consist  of  Poems 
and  Letters  of  Burns,  presented  to  Robert  Riddell  of  Glenriddell. 

Interleaved  Museum  is  a  copy  of  the  first  four  volumes  of  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum  which  belonged  to  Robert  Riddell  of  Glenriddell,  and  in 
which  Burns  wrote  numerous  Notes  (or  Strictures  as  he  called  them)  on  Songs, 
many  of  them  his  own.  R.  H.  Cromek  was  permitted  to  examine  the  volumes 
by  the  owner,  Eliza  Bayley,  and  pages  187  to  306  of  his  Reliques  of  Robert 
Burns,  1808,  contain  a  transcript  of  the  Notes,  which  are  the  most  interesting 
part  of  the  work.  Every  editor  of  Burns  has  relied  implicitly  on  the  accuracy 
of  Cromek.  Upon  the  recent  discovery  of  the  Interleaved  Museum  after  a 
sequestration  of  nearly  a  century,  I  have  been  permitted  to  collate  it  with 
the  Reliqiies  with  the  following  result:  Out  of  173  Notes  printed  by 
Cromek  only  127  are  verbatim  copies;  eighteen  are  garbled  or  imperfect,  of 
which  four  differ  entirely  from  the  MS.,  and  another  four  are  written  partly  by 
Burns  and  partly  by  Riddell ;  fourteen  are  written  entirely  by  Riddell  or  other 
than  Burns ;  lastly,  fourteen  are  not  in  the  MS.  at  all,  and  the  leaves  of  four  of 
these  have  been  cut  out  and  are  now  missing.  On  the  other  hand  seyen  short 


xxvi  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Notes  by  Burns  are  not  printed,  and  in  place  of  that  on  Auld  Lang  Syne  in 
Reliques,  282,  which  is  a  pure  invention,  there  is  a  complete  and  hitherto 
unsuspected  holograph  copy  of  the  verses  of  Auld  Lang  Syne,  for  which  see 
page  208  infra. 

Numerous  references  and  quotations  in  the  following  pages  from  the  R cliques 
were  set  up  in  type  before  discovery.  These  have  been  since  corrected  from 
the  MS.,  and  so  far  as  they  go  can  be  compared  with  Cromek's  work.  The 
four  volumes  of  the  Interleaved  Museum,  with  the  autograph  of  Robert  Riddell, 
were  left  by  Mrs.  Riddell  to  her  niece  Eliza  Bayley,  of  Manchester.  A  London 
bookseller  acquired  them  for  'an  old  song,'  and,  with  other  Burns's  rarities, 
sold  them  in  1870  out  of  his  catalogue  to  A.  F.  Nichols,  who  bought  them 
on  the  express  condition  that  neither  his  name  nor  address  should  be  disclosed. 
After  his  death  in  Feb.,  1902,  the  volumes  passed  into  the  possession  of 
Miss  Oakshott,  who  permitted  me  to  examine  them. 

'  Poems,  chiefly  in  the  Scottish  Dialect.  By  Robert  Burns.  Kilmarnock  : 
Printed  by  John  Wilson,  MDCCLXXXVI.'  8vo.  The  Kilmarnock  edition  con- 
sisted of  600  copies  at  a  subscription  price  of  three  shillings  each. 

'  Poems,  chiefly  in  the  Scottish  Dialect.  By  Robert  Burns.  Edinburgh  : 
Printed  for  the  Author,  and  sold  by  William  Creech,  M,DCC,LXXXVii.'  8vo. 
Two  separate  issues,  the  skinking  and  the  stinking,  so  called  from  a  printer's 
error  on  p.  263.  The  text  of  the  latter  generally  agrees  with  that  of  the  first 
Kilmarnock  edition,  so  far  as  it  goes. 

'Poems,  chiefly  in  the  Scottish  Dialect.  By  Robert  Burns.  In  two 
volumes.  The  second  edition,  considerably  enlarged.  Edinburgh  :  Printed  for 
T.  Cadell,  London,  and  William  Creech,  Edinburgh,  M,DCC,XCIII.'  Sm.  8vo. 
Contains  twenty  additional  pieces. 

'  Poems,  chiefly  in  the  Scottish  Dialect.  By  Robert  Burns.  In  two 
volumes.  A  new  edition  considerably  enlarged.  Edinburgh  :  Printed  for 
T.  Cadell,  London,  and  William  Creech,  Edinburgh.  MDCCXCIV.'  8vo.  This 
is  a  reprint  of  the  1793  edition  with  a  few  alterations.  It  is  the  last  edition  of 
the  author. 

'  The  Works  of  Robert  Burns ;  with  an  account  of  his  life,  and  a  criti- 
cism on  his  writings.  To  which  are  prefixed,  some  observations  on  the 
character  and  condition  of  the  Scottish  peasantry.  In  four  volumes.  [By  Dr. 
Currie.]  Liverpool,  printed  by  J.  M°Creery,  Houghton  Street ;  for  T.  Cadell, 
Jun.,  and  W.  Davies,  Strand,  London;  and  W.  Creech,  Edinburgh  .  .  .  1800.' 
8vo.  4  vols. 

'  Poems  ascribed  to  Robert  Burns,  the  Ayrshire  Bard,  not  contained  in 
any  edition  of  his  works  hitherto  published.  Glasgow,  printed  by  Chapman 
&  Lang,  for  Thomas  Stewart  .  . .  1801.'  8vo.  pp.  vi  and  94. 

'  Reliques  of  Robert  Burns  ;  consisting  chiefly  of  original  letters,  poems, 
and  critical  observations  on  Scottish  Songs.  Collected  and  published  by  R.  H. 
Cromek.  London  :  Printed  by  J.  M°Creery,  for  T.  Cadell,  and  W.  Davies, 
Strand.  1808.'  8vo. 

This  is  the  volume  referred  to  in  the  preceding  note  on  the  Interleaved 
Museum. 

'  Life  of  Robert  Burns.  By  J.  G.  Lockhart,  LL.B.  Edinburgh  :  Con- 
stable &  Co.  1828.'  8vo.  The  second  edition  in  1829. 

'  The  Works  of  Robert  Burns.  Edited  by  the  Ettrick  Shepherd  and 
William  Motherwell.  Glasgow:  A.  Fullarton  &  Co.'  1834-6.  I2mo. 
5  vols. 


WORKS    OF    BURNS 


xxvii 


'  Kilmarnock  Edition.  In  two  volumes,  revised  and  extended.  The 
Complete  Poetical  "Works  of  Bobert  Burns,  arranged  in  the  order  of 
their  earliest  publication.  Volume  First.  Pieces  published  by  the  author, 
with  new  annotations,  biographical  notices,  &c.  Edited  by  William  Scott- 
Douglas.  Kilmarnock :  McKie  &  Drennan.  MDCCCLXXVI.'  Cr.  8vo.  Volume 
Second.  '  Pieces  published  posthumously.' 

'  Bobert  Burns*  Commonplace  Book.  Printed  from  the  original  manu- 
script in  the  possession  of  John  Adam,  Esq.,  Greenock.  Edinburgh  :  privately 
printed.  1872.'  8vo. 

<  The  "Works  of  Bobert  Burns.  [By  W.  Scott-Douglas.]  Edinburgh  : 
William  Paterson.  1877-9.'  Imp.  8vo.  6  vols. 

'  Centenary  Edition.'  '  The  Poetry  of  Bobert  Burns.  Edited  by 
William  Ernest  Henley  and  Thomas  F.  Henderson.'  Edinburgh  :  T.  C.  & 
E.  C.  Jack,  Causewayside.  1896-7.  8vo.  4  vols. 

Together,  the  Scott- Douglas  and  the  Centenary  are  the  modern  standard 
editions  of  the  complete  Works  of  Burns. 

'  Bobert  Burns.  [Vol.  i.]  La  Vie.  [Vol.  ii.]  Les  CEuvres.  Auguste 
Angellier.  Paris  :  Hachette  &  O.  1893.'  Large  8vo.  pp.  .1038.  Remark- 
able as  containing  the  most  comprehensive  life  of  Burns  yet  published,  and  a 
lengthy  description  and  criticism  of  Scottish  poetry  prior  to  Burns.  Angellier 
does  not  claim  Burns  as  a  Frenchman,  but  he  thinks  that  he  is  more  French 
than  English. 

'  Poesies  Completes  de  Bobert  Burns.  Traduites  de  1'ecossais  par 
M.  Leon  de  Wailly,  avec  une  Introduction  du  meme.  Paris  :  Adolphe  Dela- 
hays,  Libraire.  1843.'  12 mo. 

'  Gedichte  von  Bobert  Burns.  Ubersetzt  von  Philipp  Kaufmann.  Stuttgart 
und  Tiibingen  :  Verlag  der  J.  G.  Cotta'schen  Buchhandlung.  1839.'  8vo. 

'  De  schoonste  Liederen  van  Bobert  Burns.  Uit  het  Schotsch  vertaald 
door  Frans  de  Cort.  Brussel  :  L.  Truyts.  1862.'  Cr.  8vo. 

'Poesie  di  Boberto  Burns.  Prima  versione  italiana  di  Ulisse  Ortensi. 
Parte  prima.  Modena  :  E.  Sarasino.  1893.' 

'Vijftig  uitgesogte  Afrikaanse  G-edigte,  versameld  door  F.  W.  Reitz, 
Hoofregter  in  d'Oranje  Vrijstaat.  1888.'  Contains  translations  into  the  Taal 
of  The  Cottars  Saturday  Night,  Tarn  o1  Shanter,  and  Duncan  Gray,  which  are 
curious  as  being  the  work  of  the  Secretary  of  State  of  the  Transvaal,  who  wrote 
the  Ultimatum  which  precipitated  the  war  in  South  Africa. 

Other  published  translations  of  Burns  exist  in  Welsh,  Gaelic,  Bohemian, 
Danish,  Dutch,  Flemish,  French,  Frisian,  German,  Swiss-German,  Hungarian, 
Italian,  Norwegian,  Russian,  Swedish,  and  Latin. 

The  Merry  Muses  of  Caledonia.  A  collection  of  favourite  Scotch  Songs 
ancient  and  modern,  selected  for  the  use  of  the  Crochallan  Fencibles.  c.  1800. 

A  small  surreptitious  i8mo  volume  of  127  pages  without  imprint  or  date, 
containing  about  ninety  songs  assumed  to  be  copied  from  a  private  manuscript 
volume  which  Burns  intended  to  destroy,  and  which  it  is  believed  does  not  now 
exist.  The  references  in  our  Notes  are  from  a  genuine  copy  which  belonged  to 
the  late  W.  Scott-Douglas. 


xxviii  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


II.    SONGS  AND  SONG  LITERATURE  WITHOUT  MUSIC. 

Cowkelbie  Sow.  A  poem  of  the  fifteenth  century  in  the  Bannatyne  MS, 
and  printed  in  Laing's  '  Select  Remains  of  the  Ancient  Popular  Poetiy  of 
Scotland?  Edinburgh,  1822.  A  large  number  of  airs,  songs,  and  dances  are 
named  in  the  poem,  all  of  which  are  otherwise  unknown. 

Asloan  MS.,  of  about  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century,  is  a  collection 
of  early  poetry.  The  MS.  is  imperfect  5  and  of  sixty  pieces  named  in  the 
contents  thirty-four  are  missing.  It  has  never  been  properly  examined,  and  the 
present  owner  declines  access  to  it. 

'  The  Complaynt  of  Scotland,  written  in  1548,  with  a  preliminary  Disserta- 
tion and  Glossary.  Edinburgh:  Archibald  Constable,  1801.'  [By  John 
Leyden.]  8vo.  Of  the  airs,  dances,  songs,  and  tales  named  in  the  work 
the  greater  number  are  unknown. 

Maitland  MS.,  in  the  Pepysian  Library,  Cambridge,  was  compiled  by  Sir 
Richard  Maitland,  of  Lethington  (1496-1586).  It  was  bought  at  the  Lauderdale 
sale  in  1692  by  the  diarist,  Pepys,  who  bequeathed  it  to  Magdalen  College  in 
1703.  It  consists  of  two  volumes  of  poetry  written  from  about  1420  to  1585. 
Vol.  i.,  folio,  pp.  366,  contains  176  pieces.  Vol.  ii.,  quarto,  138  leaves,  contains 
96  pieces.  See  Pinkerton's  Ancient  Scotish  Poems,  London,  1786;  and  Poems, 
Maitland  Club,  Glasgow,  1830. 

'  Ane  compendious  buik  of  godlie  Psalmes  and  spirituall  Sangis  collectit 
furthe  of  sindrie  partis  of  the  Scripture,  with  diueris  Vtheris  Ballatis  changeit 
out  of  prophane  Sangis  in  godlie  Sangis  for  auoyding  of  sin  and  harlatrie.  With 
augmentation  of  sindrie  gude  and  godlie  Ballatis  not  contenit  in  the  first 
editioun.  Imprentit  at  Edinbrugh  be  Johne  Ros  for  Henrie  Charteris. 
MDLxxviii.  Cum  priuilegio  Regali.'  i6mo,  pp.  16  and  207.  [A  literal  reprint 
was  issued  by  David  Laing,  Edinburgh,  1868;  and  the  Scottish  Text  Society 
-has  since  reprinted  an  earlier  edition  of  1567.  The  contents  are  metrical 
versions  of  some  of  the  Psalms,  a  selection  of  hymns,  chiefly  translations,  from 
the  German,  and  (for  our  purpose)  a  number  of  imitations  or  religious  parodies 
of  popular  secular  songs  then  current.  This  kind  of  poetry  was  written  for  the 
use  of  the  Reformers  in  England,  Holland,  Germany,  France,  and  Italy  prior 
to  the  Scottish  collection.  The  two  last-named  countries  suppressed  it. 
Coverdale  wrote  a  '  godlie '  song  which  would  be  impossible  to  print  in  a 
hymnary  of  the  present  day.  The  '  psalmes '  of  a  noble  lord  of  Holland, 
Nievelte  by  name,  were  published  in  1540,  and  sung  in  the  families  and  private 
assemblies  of  the  Protestants,  '  ut  homines  ab  amatoriis,  haud  raro  obscoenis, 
aliisque  vanis  canticis,  quibus  omnia  in  urbibus  et  vicis  personabant,  avocaret,' 
&c.  The  spiritual  songs  of  Colletet  published  in  France  as  late  as  1660  are 
scandalously  bad.  The  subject  is  sketched  in  McCrie's  Life  of  John  Knox, 
Edinburgh,  1840,^99.  See  also  Douen's  Le  Psautier  Huguenot,  Paris,  1878, 
2  vols.  8vo.  In  connexion  with  this  subject  a  sang  which  had  been  sought  in 
vain  for  many  years  has  just  come  to  light.  In  1568  the  General  Assembly  of 
the  Kirk  unanimously  ordered  Thomas  Bassandine  to  call  in  all  the  copies  of 
a  psalm  buik  which  he  had  published  without  licence,  and  to  keep  '  the  rest 
unsauld '  until  he  deleted  '  a  baudie  song  out  of  the  end  of  the  psalm  booke.' 
Now  that  a  copy  of  Welcunt  Fortoun  has  been  discovered  it  is  difficult  to 
understand  why  it  should  have  been  singled  out  for  opprobrium  and  the  printer 
so  severely  punished.  The  decorum  of  the  verses  as  compared  with  some  lively 
sangis  in  the  Godlie  ballads  is  presumptive  evidence  that  the  Assembly  wanted 
an  excuse  to  punish  the  unlicensed  printer.  By  permission  of  the  Scottish  Text 


SONG    LITERATURE   WITHOUT    MUSIC        xxix 


Society  I  reprint  the  verses  as  follows  from  the  Gude  and  Godlie  Ballatis, 
Edinburgh,  1897,  222. 


'  Welcum  Fortoun,  welcum  againe, 

The  day  and  hour  I  may  weill  blis 
Thow  hes  exilit  all  my  paine, 

Quhilk  to  my  hart  greit  plesour  is. 
For  I  may  say  that  few  men  may, 

Seing  of  paine  I  am  drest, 
I  haif  obtenit  all  my  pay 

The  love  of  hir  that  I  lufe  best. 
I  knaw  nae  sic  as  scho  is  one, 

Sa  trew,  sa  kynde,  sa  luifTandlie, 


Quhat  suld  I  do,  an  scho  war  gone  ? 

Allace  !  zit  I  had  leuer  die. 
To  me  scho  is  baith  trew  and  kynde, 

Worthie  it  war  scho  had  the  praise? 
For  na  disdaine  in  hir  I  find, 

I  pray  to  God  I  may  hir  pleis. 
Quhen  that  I  heir  hir  name  exprest, 

My  hart  for  loy  dois  loup  thairfoir, 
Abufe  all  vther  I  lufe  hir  best, 

Until  I  die,  quhat  wald  scho  moir  ? ' 


Bannatyne  MS.  1568.  In  the  Advocates' Library,  Edinburgh.  Compiled 
in  1568  by  George  Bannatyne  (1545-^.  1606)  in  a  folio  containing  about  340 
pieces  and  other  additional  poems  by  later  hands.  A  complete  catalogue  is 
in  Memorials  of  George  Bannatyne,  Edinburgh,  1829.  The  whole  has  been 
reprinted  for  the  Hunterian  Chib.  Selections  are  in  Ancient  Scottish  Poems, 
Edinburgh,  1770  ;  and  Sibbald's  Chronicle  of  Scottish  Poetry,  Edinburgh,  1802. 

'  A  handefull  of  pleasant  delites,  containing  Sundrie  new  Sonets  and 
delectable  Histories,  in  diuers  Kindes  of  meeter.  Newly  deuised  to  the  newest 
tunes  that  are  now  in  use,  to  be  .sung  :  euerie  Sonet  orderjy  pointed  to  his 
proper  Tune  With  new  additions  of  Certain  Songs,  to  very  lately  deuised  Notes, 
not  commonly  knowen,  nor  vsed  heretofore,  By  Clement  Robinson  and  diuers 
others.  At  London  :  Richard  Jhones.  1584.'  I2mo,  pp.  63.  Only  a  unique 
copy  imperfect  is  known.  Reprinted  in  Arber's  English  Scholar's  Library,  1878. 
Of  the  first  edition  of  1566  not  any  portion  has  been  verified.  It  is  the  first 
miscellaneous  collection  of  songs,  marked  for  popular  tunes,  issued  in  England. 

'  Merry  Drollery,  or  a  collection  of  Jovial  Poems,  Merry  Songs,  Witty 
Drolleries.  Intermixed  with  Merry  Catches.  The  first  part.  Collected  by 
W.  N. ;  C.  B. ;  R.  S. ;  I.  G. ;  London,  Printed  by  I.  W.  for  P.  H.,'  &c.  [1661]. 
The  Second  Part  with  additions  in  1671.  I2mo. 

'"Westminster  Drollery.  Or  a  choice  Collection  of  the  Newest  Songs  and 
Poems  both  at  Court  and  Theaters.  By  a  Person  of  Quality.  With  additions. 
London  :  Printed  for  H.  Brome  at  the  Gun  in  St.  Paul's  Church  Yard,  &c.  1671.' 
I2mo. 

'  Scotch  Presbyterian  Eloquence  Display'd;  or,  The  folly  of  their  teaching 
discover'd  from  their  Books,  Sermons/Prayers,  &c.  With  additions.  London, 
1694.'  Second  edition,  4to. 

4  A  choice  Collection  of  Comic  and  Serious  Scots  Poems  both  ancient 
and  modern.  By  several  hands.  Part  i.  Edinburgh :  printed  by  James 
Watson.  Sold  by  John  Vallange.  1706.'  Cr.  8vo.  Part  ii.  in  1709,  and 
Part  iii.  in  1711. 

This  is  the  first  miscellaneous  collection  of  Scottish  Secular  Poetry  published 
in  Scotland.  It  contains  only  a  few  vernacular  songs. 

'  A  Collection  of  Old  Ballads  corrected  from  the  best  and  most  ancient 
copies  extant.  With  Introductions  historical,  critical,  or  humorous.  Illustrated 
with  copper  plates.  London  :  printed  for  J.  Roberts,'  &c.,  1723-5.  i6mo. 
3  vols. 

The  Tea- Table  Miscellany  :  a  collection  of  the  most  Choice  Songs,  Scots 
and  English.  By  Allan  Ramsay.  Edinburgh.  i8mo. 

Original  copies  of  the  several  volumes  of  this  work  are  exceedingly  rare.  The 
following  are  the  dates  of  publication:  Vol.  i.  in  1724;  vol.  ii.  in  1724  or 
1725;  vol.  iii.  in  1727;  and  vol.  iv.  in  1740.  The  third  volume  contains  no 


xxx  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


Scottish  songs,  the  others  are  a  mixed  collection.  The  eighteenth  edition 
appeared  in  1792.  A  presumably  unauthorized  edition,  two  volumes  in  one,  has 
the  following  title  :  '  The  Tea-Table  Miscellany ;  or  Allan  Ramsay's  Collection 
of  Scots  Songs.  London  :  Printed  by  J.  Watson  over  against  Hungerford 
Market  in  the  Strand,  1730*'  i8mo.  pp.  230.  In  the  preface  it  is  styled  the 
1  fifth  edition.' 

The  Hive,  a  Collection  of  the  most  Celebrated  Songs.  London: 
Printed  for  J.  Walthoe,  Jun.,  1724.  i6mo.  4  vols.  The  last  in  1732. 
Contains  a  criticism  on  Song  Writing  by  'Namby-pamby'  Philips. 

'  The  Vocal  Miscellany,  a  collection  of  above  four  hundred  celebrated  songs  ; 
many  of  which  were  never  before  printed.  With  the  names  of  the  tunes 
prefixed  to  each  song.  The  third  edition  corrected  with  additions.  Dublin  : 
Printed  by  W.  Rhames  in  Capel  Street  .  .  .  1738.'  i6mo.  pp.  xx  and  340. 
The  first  edition,  London,  1733. 

; '  The  Lark  :  containing  a  Collection  of  above  Four  hundred  and  seventy 
celebrated  English  and  Scotch  Songs  none  of  which  are  contained  in  the  other 
collections  of  the  same  size  called  The  Syren  and  The  Nightingale.  With 
a  curious  and  copious  alphabetical  glossary  for  explaining  the  Scotch  words. 
London:  printed  for  John  Osborn  .  .  .  1740.'  i8mo.  pp.  416. 

'  The  Charmer,  a  choice  collection  of  Songs,  Scots  and  English.  Edinburgh : 
Printed  for  J.  Yair  .  .  .  1749.  I2mo.'  The  second  volume  in  1751.  The 
second  edition  in  1752  ;  the  third  in  1765  is  subscribed  '  Edinburgh  :  Printed 
for  M.  Yair,  bookseller.' 

'  Orpheus  :  a  collection  of  One  thousand  nine  hundred  and  seventy-four  of  the 
most  celebrated  English  and  Scotch  songs.  With  a  glossary  explaining  the 
Scotch  words.  In  three  volumes.  London :  Printed  for  C.  Hitch  and  J. 
Osborn  . .  .  1749.  i6mo.'  This  is  a  collection  of  three  volumes  under  the  titles 
—  The  Linnet,  The  Thrush,  and  The  Robin,  published  the  same  year. 

Collection  of  Loyal  Songs,  Poems,  &c.  London,  1750.  Privately, 
printed. 

Herd's  MS.,  now  in  the  British  Museum,  contains  songs,  ballads,  and 
remnants  ;  it  is  the  foundation  of  Herd's  Collections  of  Songs  published  in 
1769  and  1776.  Many  unpublished  pieces  are  referred  to  in  the  Notes. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  and  other  ballad  editors  since  his  time  have  examined  it  and 
drawn  from  it. 

'  A  Collection  cf  Songs.  Edinburgh :  Printed  by  A.  Donaldson  and  J.  Reid. 
1762.'  I2mo. 

A  choice  Collection  of  Scotch  and  English  Songs,  taken  from  the 
Amyrillis,  Phoenix,  &c.  .  .  .  Glasgow,  1764.  I2mo. 

The  Blackbird  :  a  choice  Collection  of  the  most  celebrated  songs  .  .  .  ,  by 
William  Hunter,  Philo-Architechtonicae.  Edinburgh j  1764.  i6mo. 

The  Lark :  being  a  select  collection  of  the  most  celebrated  and  newest  songs, 
Scots  and  English.  Edinburgh:  W.  Gordon,  1765.  Vol.  i.  I2mo.  Only  one 
volume  published. 

'  The  Masque  :  a  new  and  select  collection  of  the  best  English,  Scotch,  and 
Irish  Songs  .  . .  with  a  great  number  of  valuable  originals.  ...  A  new  edition 
with  great  additions.  London  :  printed  for  Richardson  &  Urquhart  under  the 
Royal  Exchange,'  n.  d.  12 mo.  The  first  edition  in  1761,  another  in  1768. 
That  described  above  is  a  few  years  later. 

'Keliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry:  consisting  of  old  Heroic  Ballads, 


SONG    LITERATURE    WITHOUT    MUSIC       xxxi 


Songs,  and  other  pieces  of  our  earlier  Poets  (chiefly  of  the  lyric  kind). 
Together  with  some  few  of  later  date.  By  Thomas  Percy.  London,  1765.' 
3  vols.  Second  English  edition  in  1767,  third  in  1775,  fourth  edition  improved 
1794,  fifth  in  1812. 

*  The  ancient  and  modern  Scots  Songs,  Heroic  Ballads,  &c.  Now  first 
collected  into  one  body,  from  the  various  miscellanies  wherein  they  formerly 
lay  dispersed.  Containing  likewise,  a  great  number  of  original  songs  from 
manuscripts,  never  before  published.  Edinburgh  :  printed  by,  and  for,  Martin 
&  Wotherspoon.  MDCCLXIX.'  I2mo.  This  is  Herd's  original  edition  in  one 
volume,  which  is  very  rare. 

The  Glasgow  Miscellany  :  a  select  collection  of  Scots  and  English  Songs. 
Glasgow,  n.  d.  8vo. 

'  The  Caledoniad.  A  collection  of  Poems,  written  chiefly  by  Scottish 
authors.  London  :  Printed  by  W.  Hay  .  .  .  1775.'  i6mo.  3  vols.  A  curious 
and  rare  collection  of  Poems  and  Songs,  including  satirical  pieces  by  Sir  Robert 
Keith  Murray  (I732-95)>  Ambassador-Extraordinary  to  the  Court  of 
Vienna. 

'  Ancient  and  Modern  Scottish  Songs,  Heroic  Ballads,  &c.  Collected 
from  memory,  tradition,  and  ancient  authors.  The  second  edition.  In  two 
volumes.  Edinburgh  :  Printed  by  John  Wotherspoon  for  James  Dickson  and 
Charles  Elliot,'  MDCCLXXVI.  I2mo.  This  is  the  second  edition  of  Herd's 
Collection.  Another  and  different  edition  in  1791  by  Laurie  and  Symington. 

'  The  Nightingale  :  a  collection  of  ancient  and  modern  Songs,  Scots  and 
English,  none  of  which  are  in  Ramsay. .  .  .  Edinburgh :  Printed  for  J.  Murray, 
1776.'  I2mo. 

Essay  on  Poetry  and  Music  .  .  .  [Dr.  Beattie.]     Edinburgh,  1776.     8vo. 

'  Letters  from  Edinburgh.  [Captain  Edward  Topham.]  Written  in  the 
years  1774  and  1775:  containing  some  Observations  on  the  Diversions,  Customs, 
Manners,  and  Laws  of  the  Scotch  nation,  during  a  six  months'  residence  in 
Edinburgh.  London  :  J.  Dodsley,  1776.'  8vo. 

'  The  Scots  Nightingale ;  or  Edinburgh  Vocal  Miscellany.  A  new  and 
select  collection  of  the  best  Scots  and  English  Songs,  and  a  great  number  of 
valuable  originals  by  Drs.  Beattie,  Goldsmith,  Blacklock,  Scrymgeour,  Webster, 
Innes,  Sir  Harry  Erskine,  Messrs.  Tait,  Boswell,  Ferguson.  .  .  .  The  second 
edition :  with  the  addition  of  one  hundred  modern  Songs.  Edinburgh :  Printed 
by  James  Murray,  Parliament  Square,  1779.'  i8mo. 

Dissertation  on  the  Scottish  Music  by  W.  Tytler,  of  Woodhouslee. 
First  printed  at  the  end  of  Arnot's  History  of  Edinburgh,  1779. 

'  The  True  Loyalist ;  or  Chevalier's  Favourite.  Being  a  collection  of 
elegant  songs,  never  before  printed.  Also  several  other  loyal  compositions, 
wrote  by  eminent  hands.  Printed  in  the  year  1779.'  i8mo. 

'  The  Sky -Lark  ;  or  the  Lady's  and  Gentleman's  Harmonious  Companion. 
Edinburgh , '  n .  d .  1 2  mo. 

'  St.  Cecilia ;  or  the  Lady's  and  Gentleman's  Harmonious  Companion  :  being 
a  select  collection  of  Scots  and  English  Songs  ;  many  of  which  are  originals. . . . 
Edinburgh  :  Printed  by  W.  Darling  for  C.  Wilson  .  .  .  1779.'  i6mo. 

'  Scottish  Tragic  Ballads.  [John  Pinkerton.]  London:  J.  Nichols,  1781.' 
Cr.  8vo. 


xxxii  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


'  The  Goldfinch;  or  New  Modern  Songster.  Being  a  select  collection  of  the 
most  admired  and  favourite  Scots  and  English  Songs,  Cantatas,  &c.  Edinburgh  : 
Printed  for  A.  Brown,'  n.  d.  [1782].  izmo.  •  The  first  edition  was  published  in 

1777. 

'  The  Charmer :  a  collection  of  songs,  chiefly  such  as  are  eminent  for 
Poetical  merit  ;  among  which  are  many  originals  and  others  that  were  never 
before  printed  in  a  Song  Book.  In  two  volumes.  Vol.  i.  Fourth  edition  with 
improvements.  Edinburgh:  Printed  for  J.  Sibbald,  &c.,  1782.'  I2mo.  Vol. ii. 
*  an  entire  new  collection.'  The  first  volume  is  a  reprint  of  that  of  1 765  with 
the  exception  of  thirteen  songs  substituted  for  twelve  others  omitted. 

'Select  Scotish  Ballads.  [John  Pinkerton.]  London  :  J.  Nichols,  1783.' 
Cr.  8vo. 

'  The  Chearful  Companion,  containing  a  select  collection  of  favourite  Scots 
id  English  Songs,  Catches,  &c.,  many  of  which 
Perth.  .  .  .  J.  Gillies,  Bookseller,  1783.'     i6mo. 


and  English  Songs,  Catches,  &c.,many  of  which  are  originals.     Second  edition. 
~  illi 


'  The  Poetical  Museum.  Containing  Songs  and  Poems  on  almost  every 
subject.  Mostly  from  periodical  publications.  Hawick  :  printed  for  G.  Carr, 
1784.'  i6mo. 

The  New  British  Songster.  A  collection  of  Songs,  Scots  and  English, 
with  toasts  and  sentiments  for  the  Bottle.  Falkirk,  1785. 


'  The  Humming  Bird:  or  a  compleat  collection  of  the  most  esteemed  Songs. 
Containing  about  Fourteen  hundred  of  the  most  celebrated  English,  Scotch,  and 
Irish  Songs.  .  .  .  Canterbury  :  printed  and  sold  by  Simmons  and  Kirby  .  .  . 
1785.'  Square  I2mo. 

The  British  Songster,  being  a  select  collection  of  favourite  Scots  and 
English  Songs,  Catches,  &c.  Glasgow:  A.  Tillock  .  .  .  1786.  i6mo. 

'Ancient  Scotish  Poems,  never  before  in  print,  but  now  published.  from  the 
MS.  collections  of  Sir  Richard  Maitland  of  Lethington.  .  .  .  With  large  notes 
and  a  Glossary.  .  .  .  London  :  Printed  for  Charles  Dilly  .  .  .  1786.'  2  vols. 
cr.  8vo.  This  is  the  collection  of  Pinkerton,  who  anticipated  Ritson  in  the 
history  of  Scottish  Song. 

*  The  Busy  Bee  or  Vocal  Bepository  ;  being  a  selection  of  the  most 
favourite  songs  .  .  .  and  a  variety  of  Scotch  and  Irish  Ballads,  &c.  London  : 
J.  S.  Barr,'  n.  d.  [1790].  I2mo.  3  vols. 

The  Edinburgh  Syren  or  Musical  Bouquet  ;  being  a  new  selection  of 
Modern  Songs.-.  .  .  Edinburgh:  Thomas  Brown,  1792.  24mo. 

Essay  on  Scottish  Songs  by  John  Ramsay  of  Ochtertyre.  Printed  in  The 
Bee,  Edinburgh,  1794,  and  signed  J.  Runcole. 

Poetry;  Original  and  Selected.  Glasgow  :  Printed  for  and  sold  by 
Brash  &  Reed,  n.  d.  [1796-7].  4  vols.  i6mo. 

The  Nightingale,  a  collection  of  Songs,  Scots,  English,  and  Irish.  Printed 
for  and  sold  by  the  Booksellers,  1798.  24mo. 

'  Sangs  of  the  Lowlands  of  Scotland,  carefully  compared  with  the  original 
editions,  and  embellished  with  characteristic  designs  composed  and  engraved 
by  the  late  David  Allan,  Esq.,  historical  painter.  Edinburgh  :  printed  and  sold 
by  David  Foulis  .  .  .  1799.'  4to.  pp.  222.  • 


SONG    LITERATURE   WITHOUT    MUSIC     xxxiii 

The  Polyhymnia :  being  a  collection  of  Poetry,  original  and  selected,  by 
a  Society  of  Gentlemen.  Glasgow:  John  Murdoch,  n.  d.  [1799].  i6mo. 
Twenty  Nos.  of  eight  pages  each. 

Minstrelsy  of  the  Scottish  Border :  consisting  of  historical  and  romantic 
ballads,  collected  in  the  southern  counties  of  Scotland,  with  a  few  of  modern 
date  founded  upon  local  tradition.  Kelso,  1802,  for  vols.  i.  and  ii;  Edinburgh, 
1803,  vol.  iii.  The  final  authorized  edition  of  this  collection  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott  was  edited  by  J.  G.  Lockhart,,and  published  in  1833. 

The  Principal  Collections  of  Scottish  Ballads  are :  Jamieson's  Popular  Ballads 
and  Songs,  Edinburgh,  1806  ;  Finlay's  "Scottish  Historical  and  Romantic 
Ballads,  Edinburgh,  1808;  Illustrations  of  Northern  Antiquities,  Edinburgh, 
1814;  Gilchrist's  Ancient  and  Modern  Scottish  Ballads,  Edinburgh,  1815; 
Struther's  British  Minstrel,  Glasgow,  1821  ;  Laing's  Ancient  Popular  Poetry 
of  Scotland,  Edinburgh,  1824;  Laing's  The  Thistle  of  Scotland,  Aberdeen,  1823; 
Sharpe's  A  Ballad  Book,  Edinburgh,  1823;  Maidment's  A  North  Countrie 
Garland,  Edinburgh,  1824  ;  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  Ancient  and  Modern, 
Glasgow,  1827;  Kinloch's  Ancient  Scottish  Ballads,  London,  1827  ;  Kinloch's 
The  Ballad  Book,  Edinburgh,  1827;  and  Maidment's  A  New  Book  of  Old 
Ballads,  Edinburgh,  1844. 

'  Select  Scotish  Songs,  Ancient  and  Modern.  With  critical  observations 
and  biographical  notices,  by  Robert  Burns.  Edited  by  R.  H.  Cromek.  London  : 
Printed  for  T.  Cad  ell  and  W.  Davies,  Strand,  by  J.  McCreery.  1810.'  2  vols. 
Cr.  8vo.  The  Notes  quoted  from  Burns  in  these  volumes  must  be  received  with 
caution. 

'  Illustrations  of  the  Lyric  Poetry  and  Music  of  Scotland.  By  the  late 
William  Stenhouse.  Originally  compiled  to  accompany  -the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  and  now  published  separately,  with  additional  Notes  and  Illustrations. 
William  Blackwood  &  Sons:  Edinburgh  and  London*  1853.'  8vo.  About 
900  pages.  Contains  a  facsimile  Letter  of  Robert  Burns.  This  important 
work  on  Scottish  verse  and  air  was  begun  prior  to  the  year  1817,  was  printed 
at  the  close  of  1820,  was  delayed  and  ultimately  laid  aside  until  1839,  when  it 
was  first  published  with  additional  Illustrations  and  a  copious  Bibliography  of 
Scottish  Music  to  accompany  a  new  issue  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum. 
Stenhouse  had  the  use  of  the  MSS.  of  Burns's  songs  which  were  printed  in 
the  Museum,  and  he  is  more  to  be  depended  upon  as  a  commentator  of  Burns 
than  as  an  historical  annotator  on  music.  Although  his  work  is  .defaced  by 
numberless  erroneous  dates  and  quotations  which  have  to  be  verified,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  he  was  the  first  investigator  of  Scottish  music ;  and  all  who 
undertake  the  subject  are  obliged  to  refer  to  his  work  as  a  starting-point.  His 
volume  contains  numerous  melodies  dispersed  in  the  text. 

f  The  Poems  of  the  Sempills  of  Beltrees.  Now  first  collected,  with  Notes 
and  Biographical  Notices  of  their  lives.  By  James  Paterson.  .  .  .  Edinburgh  : 
Stevenson,  1849.'  I2mo. 

Musical  Memoirs  of  Scotland.  With  Historical  Annotations  and 
numerous  illustrative  plates.  By  Sir  John  Graham  Dalyell.  Edinburgh,  1849. 
4to. 

'  Scotish  Ballads  and  Songs.  [James  Maidment.]  Edinburgh  :  Steven- 
son, 1859.'  i6mo. 

'  The  Dialect  of  the  Southern  Counties  of  Scotland  :  its  pronunciation, 
grammar,  and  historical  relations.  With  an  appendix  on  the  present  limits  of 


xxxiv  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


the  Gaelic  and  Lowland  Scotch,  and  the  dialectical  divisions  of  the  Lowland 
tongue,  and  a  linguistical  map  of  Scotland.  By  James  A.  H.  Murray  . . .  London : 
Asher  &  Co.,  1873.'  8vo:  pp.  248. 

The  English,  and  Scottish  Ballads.  Edited  by  Francis  James  Child.  4to. 
In  ten  parts,  or  five  volumes.  1882-98.  The  most  comprehensive  work  of 
its  kind. 


III.    SONGS  AND  SONG  LITERATURE  WITH  MUSIC 

This  list  includes  all  the  known  original  collections  of  Scottish  Song  with 
Music,  published  in  Scotland  during  the  eighteenth  century.  The  first  printed 
music  book  was  '  The  whole  Psalmes  of  David  in  English  meter '  at  Edinburgh, 
by  Robert  Lekprevik,  1564,  included  in  Knox's  Liturgy. 

'  Cantus,  Songs  and  Fancies.  To  thre,  foure,  or  five  Partes,  both  apt  for 
voices  and  viols.  With,  a  briefe  Introduction  to  Musick,  as  is  taught  in  the 
Musick-schole  of  Aberdene  by  T.  D.,  Mr  of  Musick.  Aberdene:  Printed  by 
John  Forbes,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  shop,  MDCLXH.'  Sm.  ob. 

The  second  and  third  editions,  varied  and  enlarged,  appeared  in  1666  and 
1682  respectively.  The  collection  is  chiefly  English  scholastic  part-music. 

'A  choice  Collection  of  180  Loyal  Songs,  all  of  them  written  since  the 
two  late  Plots,  viz.  the  horrid  Salamanca  Plot  in  1678  and  the  Fanatical  Con- 
spiracy in  1683.  Intermixt  with  some  new  Love  Songs.  With  a  table  to  find 
every  song.  To  which  is  added  the  musical  notes  to  each  song.  The  third 
edition  with  many  additions.  London  :  Printed  by  N.  T.  .  .  .  Old  Spring- 
Garden  .  . .  1685,*  i6mo.  pp.  372. 

'  "Wit  and  Mirth  ;  £>r,  Pills  to  purge  melancholy.  Being  a  collection  of  the 
best  merry  ballads  and  songs,  old  and  new.  Fitted  to  all  Humours,  having 
each  their  proper  tune  for  either  voice,  or  instrument :  Most  of  the  songs  being 
new  set.  London  :  .  .  .  Printed  by  W.  Pearson  for  I.  Tonson,  &c.,  1719-1720.' 
I2mo.  6  vols. 

This  is  known  as  Durfey's  Pills.  The  first  edition  was  published  in  1699, 
and  the  third  in  1707.  That  described  above  is  the  fourth  edition,  the  most 
complete,  and  contains  some  genuine  Scottish  airs,  with  numerous  parodies 
of  Scottish  songs  and  Anglo-Scottish  airs. 

'  Orpheus  Caledonius  :  or,  a  collection  of  the  best  Scotch  songs  set  to 
musick  by  W.  Thomson.'  London  :  engraved  and  printed  for  the  author  ... 
n.  d.'  [1725].  Folio.  Contains  fifty  songs.  This  is  the  earliest  collection 
proper  of  Scottish  songs. 

'  The  Musical  Miscellany :  being  a  collection  of  choice  songs,  .  .  .  &c. 
London  :  John  Watts,'  1729-31.'  Sm.  8vo.  6  vols.  The  title-pages  of  vols. 
iii.  to  vi.  are  slightly  different  from  above.  Contains  reprints  of  some  songs  in 
the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  and  other  Scottish  Songs. 

A  Collection  of  Original  Scotch  Songs,  with  a  thorough  Bass  to  each 
song,  for  the  Harpsichord.  London  :  Printed  for  and  sold  by  J.  Walsh,  &c., 
n.  d.  [1731].  Folio.  Another  collection  in  1734  also  undated. 

(  Orpheus  Caledonius  ;  or,  a  collection  of  Scots  songs.  Set  to  musick  by 
W.  Thomson.  London:  Printed  for  the  author.  ..  1733.'  8vo.  2  vols. 
The  first  volume  is  a  near  reprint  of  that  of  1725,  the  second  volume  contains 
an  additional  fifty  songs. 


SONG    LITERATURE    WITH    MUSIC          xxxv 


'  Bickham's  Musical  Entertainer.  Printed  for  C.  Corbett  at  Addison's 
Head,  Fleet  Street,'  n.  d.  [1737].  Folio.  2  vols.  Contains  verses,  music, 
pictorial  head-pieces  and  ornamental  borders,  finely  engraved  throughout  by 
Gravelot  and  Bickham,  of  200  songs,  printed  on  one  side  of  the  leaf. 

'  Calliope  ;  or,  English  Harmony.  A  collection  of  the  most  celebrated  Eng- 
lish and  Scots  Songs.  Neatly  Engrav'd  and  embellish'd  with  designs  adapted 
to  the  subject  of  each  song.  .  .  .  London  :  Engrav'd  and  sold  by  Henry  Roberts 
...  in  High  Holborn,  1739.'  8vo.  2  vols. 

'Universal  Harmony;  or,  the  Gentleman  and  Ladies  Social  Companion. 
Consisting  of  a  great  variety  of  the  best  and  most  favourite  English  and  Scots 
Songs  ...  all  neatly  engraved  on  quarto  copper  plates  and  set  to  music  for  the 
voice.  .  .  .  London  :  Printed  for  J.  Newbury  .  . .  1745.'  4to.  pp.  129. 

'  The  Muses  Delight.  An  accurate  collection  of  English  and  Italian  songs 
...  set  to  music  .  .  .  and  several  hundred  English,  Irish,  and  Scots  Songs, 
without  the  music.  Liverpool  :  John  Sadler,'  1754.  8vo.  pp.  328. 

'  Thirty  Scots  Songs  for  a  voice  and  harpsichord.  The  music  taken  from 
the  most  genuine  sets  extant ;  the  words  from  Allan  Ramsay.  Edinburgh  : 
Printed  and  sold  by  R.  Bremner  at  the  Harp  and  Hoboy/  n.  d.  [1757]. 
Folio,  pp.  33. 

'A  Second  Set  of  Scots  Songs  for  a  voice  and  harpsichord.  Edinburgh  : 
[as  above]  R.  Bremner,'  n.  d.  [1757].  Folio,  pp.  33. 

Twelve  Scots  Songs  for  a  voice  or  guitar,  with  a  thorough  Bass  adapted 
for  that  instrument.  By  Robert  Bremner.  Edinburgh,  n.  d.  [1760].  Ob.  4to. 
pp.  18. 

A  Collection  of  the  best  old  Scotch  and  English  Songs  set  for  the 
voice,  with  accompaniments,  and  thorough  Bass  for  the  harpsichord.  .  .  . 
London  :  Printed  for  J.  Oswald,  n.  d.  Folio,  pp.  36. 

Anthologie  Fran9oise,  ou  Chansons  Choisies  [by  Meusnier  de 
Querlon],  depuis  le  13®  siecle  jusqu'a  present.  1765.  8vo.  3  vols. 

Twelve  Songs  for  the  voice  and  harpsichord.  Composed  by  Cornforth 
Gilson.  Edinburgh,  1769.  Folio,  pp.  14. 

'  Vocal  Music ;  or,  the  Songster's  Companion.  Containing  a  new  and 
choice  collection  of  the  greatest  variety  of  Songs,  Cantatas,'  &c.  London  : 
Printed  for  Robert  Horsfield,  n.  d.  [1770-5].  12010.  3  vols. 

Thirty  Scots  Songs  adapted  for  a  voice  and  harpsichord.  The  words  by 
Allan  Ramsay.  Edinburgh.  . .  .  N.  Stewart  &  Co.,  n.  d.  \c.  1772].  First  Book. 
Folio.  3  books.  92  pp.  in  all. 

A  Collection  of  Scots  Songs  adapted  for  a  voice  or  harpsichord.  Edin- 
burgh :  Printed  and  sold  by  Neil  Stewart.  .  .  .  n.  d.  [1772].  Folio,  pp.  28. 

A  new  and  complete  Collection  of  the  most  favourite  Scots  Songs, 
including  a  few  English  and  Irish, -with  proper  graces.  ...  By  Signer  Corri. 
Edinburgh  .  .  .  Corri  & 'Sutherland,  n.  d.  [1783].  Folio.  2  vols.  pp.  35 
each. 

Bosina.  A  Comic  Opera  as  performed  at  the  Theatre  Royal,  Covent 
Garden  (a  new  edition).  Composed  and  selected  by  W.  Shield.  London  : 
Printed  by  Goulding,  &c.,  n.  d.  Folio.  Rosina  was  performed  for  the  first 
time  in  1783. 

The  Musical  Miscellany.  A  select  collection  of  the  most  approved  Scots, 
English,  and  Irish  Songs,  set  to  music.  Perth :  Printed  by  J.  Brown, 


xxxvi  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


MUCCLXXXVI.  1 2mo.  pp.  347.  Inscribed  to  the  Provost,  Baillies,  and  Town 
Council  of  Perth.  The  first  handbook  of  songs  with  music  printed  in  Scotland. 
All  preceding  collections  were  4to  or  folio  size. 


.  : 


'  The  Scots  Musical  Museum,  humbly  dedicated  to  the  Catch  Club,  insti- 
tuted at  Edinr.,  June,  1771.  By  James  Johnson.  Vol.  i.  Price  6s.  [vignette 
without  border].  Edinburgh  :  Sold  and  subscriptions  taken  in  by  and  for  the 
publisher,  N.  Stewart,  R.  Bremner,  Corri  and  Sutherland,  R.  Ross,  Edinr.  and 
all  the  music  sellers  in  London..'  Preface  dated  May  22,  1787.  In  the  text 
Burns  is  named  once. 

Vol.  ii.  has  the  same  title-page  as  that  of  vol.  i.  so  far  as  the  address  at  foot, 
which  is  altered  to  '  Edinburgh :  Printed  and  sold  by  James  Johnson,  Engraver, 
Bells  Wynd.  Sold  also  by  N.  Stewart,  R.  Bremner,  Corri  and  Sutherland, 
R.  Ross,  C.  Elliot,  W.  Creech,  J.  Sibbald,  Edinr. ;  A.  M'Gowan  and  W.  Gould, 
Glasgow;  Boyd,  Dumfries;  More,  Dundee;  Sherriffs,  Aberdeen;  Fisher  and 
Atkinson,  Newcastle ;  Massey,  Manchester ;  C.  Elliot,  T.  Kay  &  Co.,  No.  332 
Strand ;  Longman  and  Broadrip,  No.  26  Cheapside,  London/  Preface  dated 
March  i,  1788.  Burns  is  named  once,  and  that  in  the  Index. 

Vol.  iii.  Same  title-page  as  vol.  ii,  except  that  the  vignette  has  an  orna- 
mental border  surmounted  by  a  thistle,  and  the  address  at  foot  is  enlarged, 
ending  with  { J.  Preston,  No.  97  Strand,  London.'  Preface  dated  February  2, 
1790,  ends  with  '  materials  for  the  4th  and  in  all  probability  the  last  volume  are 
in  great  forwardness.'  In  the  Index  Burns  is  marked  as  the  author  of  six 
songs. 

Vol.  iiii.  has  the  same  title-page  as  vol.  iii.  with  the  ornamental  vignette  as 
above  described,  but  with  a  changed  address,  which  is '  Edinr.  Printed  and  sold  by 
Johnson  &  Co.,  Music  Sellers,  head  of  Lady  Stair's  Close,  Lawnmarket,  where 
may  be  had  variety  of  music  and  musical  instruments  lent  out,  Tun'd  and  Re- 
paired.' Preface  is  dated  August  13,  1792.  In  the  Index  Burns  is  named  as 
the  author  of  six  songs. 

Vol.  v.  The  title-page  is  throughout  identical  with  that  of  vol.  iiii.  as  follows  : 
'  The  Scots  Mttsical  Museum  humbly  dedicated  to  the  Catch  Club  instituted  at 
Edinburgh,  June  I771*  -^Y  James  Johnson.  Vol.  v.  Price  6s.  [Vignette  with 
an  ornamented  border  surmounted  by  a  thistle.]  Edinr.  Printed  and  sold  by 
Johnson  &  Co.,  Music  Sellers,  head  of  Lady  Stair's  Close,  Lawnmarket,  where 
may  be  had  variety  of  music  and  musical  instruments  lent  out,  Tun'd  and 
Repaired.'  Undated  [Dec.  1796].  Preface  undated.  In  the  Index  only  Burns 
is  named  as  .the  author  of  fifteen  songs,  one  of  which,  however,  is  not  his. 

Vol.  vi.  and  last  is  titled  as  follows  :  '  The  Scots  Musical  Museum  in  six 
volumes  consisting  of  six  hundred  Scots  Songs  with  proper  Basses  for  the 
pianoforte,  &c.  Humbly  dedicated  to  the  Society  of  Antiquaries  of  Scotland. 
By  James  Johnson.  In  this  publication  the  original  simplicity  of  our  ancient 
national  airs  is  retained  unincumbered  with  useless  accompaniments  and  graces 
depriving  the  hearers  of  the  sweet  simplicity  of  their  native  melodies.  Vol.  vi. 
7^.  Printed  and  sold  by  Johnson,  music  seller,  Edinburgh,  to  be  had  at  T. 
Preston,  97  Strand,  London ;  MacFadyen,  Glasgow,  and  at  all  the  principal 
music  sellers.'  Preface  is  dated  June  4,  1803,  and  jn  the  Index  and  Text  Burns 
is  marked  as  the  author  of  twenty-six  songs,^/  Each  volume  contains  one 
hundred  songs.  On  the  completion  of  the  worK  in  1 803  the  title-pages  of  the 
preceding  volumes  were  altered  and  made  uniform  with  that  of  the  sixth ;  the 
Prefaces  were  revised  arid  corrected ;  and  under  the  titles  in  the  Text  of  many 
of  the  songs  of  vols.  ii.  to  v.  were  added :  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert 
!  Burns.'  During  his  lifetime  all  the  songs  of  Burns  in  Johnson's  Museum  were 
*  published  anonymously,  except  those  marked  in  the  Indexes  referred  to  above. 
A  complete  set  of  the  original  issues  is  very  rare,  and  hitherto  difficult  to 
recognize.  During  the  long  course  of  publication  the  title-pages  of  some  of  the 
early  volumes  were  altered  more  than  once. 


SONG    LITERATURE    WITH    MUSIC        xxxvii 


Calliope  ;  or  the  Musical  Miscellany.  A  select  collection  of  the  most 
approved  English,  Scots,  and  Irish  Songs,  set  to  music.  London  :  Printed  for 
C.  Elliot  and  T.  Kay.  . .  .  and  C.  Elliot,  Edinburgh,  1788.  8vo.  pp.  472. 

A  Selection  of  the  most  favourite  Scots  Songs,  chiefly  pastoral,  adapted 
for  the  harpsichord,  with  an  accompaniment  for  a  violin.  By  eminent  masters. 
.  .  .  London.  .  .  .  William  Napier,  n.  d.  [1790].  Folio,  pp.  77. 

A  Selection  of  Original  Scots  Songs  in  three  parts,  the  harmony  by 
Haydn.  .  .  .  London. . .  .  William  Napier,  n.  d.  [1792].  Folio,  pp.  101.  This 
is  the  second  volume  of  the  above.  Vol.  iii.  published  in  1794. 

The  Edinburgh  Musical  Miscellany.  A  collection  of  the  most  approved 
Scotch,  English,  and  Irish  Songs ;  set  to  music.  Selected  by  D.  Sime,  Edin- 
burgh :  printed  for  W.  Gordon  .  .  .  1792.  I2mo.  Vol.  ii.  printed  by  John  Elder, 
1793. 

'  A  Selection  of  Scots  Songs,  harmonised  and  improved,  with  simple  and 
adapted  Graces.  ...  By  Peter  Urbani,  professor  of  Music.  Printed  for  the 
author  and  sold  at  his  shop,  foot  of  Carruber's  Close.  .  .  .  Edinburgh,'  n.  d. 
[1793].  Folio,  pp.  51.  Book  ii.  in  1794,  pp.  50;  Books  iii.  and  iv.  in  1799, 
pp.  54  each. 

'  A  Select  Collection  of  Original  Scotish  Airs,  with  select  and  charac- 
teristic Scotch  and  English  verses,  the  most  part  of  which  written  by  the 
celebrated  R.  Burns  ;  arranged  for  the  voice,  with  introductory  and  concluding 
symphonies  and  accompaniments  for  the  pianoforte.  ...  by  P.  Urbani.  Edin- 
burgh :  Printed  and  sold  by  Urbani  &  Listen,  10  Princes  Street,'  n.  d.  Folio, 
pp.  59.  This  is  Books  v.  and  vi.  of  Urbani's  Collection. 

Scotish  Songs.  In  two  volumes  [Joseph  Ritson].  London  :  printed  by 
J.  Johnson  .  .  .  1794.  I2mo.  This  contains  the  valuable  Historical  Essay  on 
Scotish  Song. 

Dale's  Collection  of  Sixty  Favourite  Scotch  Songs,  taken  from  the 
original  manuscripts  of  the  most  celebrated  authors  and  composers.  .  .  . 
London  . . .  J.  Dale,  n.  d.  [1794].  Folio.  Books  ii.  and  iii.  same  year,  containing 
sixty  songs  each. 

-"'  'A  Select  Collection  of  Original  Scotish  Airs  for  the  voice.  To  each  of 
which  are  added  introductory  and  concluding  symphonies  and  accompanyments 
for  the  violin  and  pianoforte  by  Pleyel,  with  select  and  characteristic  verses  by 
the  most  admired  Scotish  Poets,  adapted  to  each  air  ;  many  of  them  entirely 
new.  Also  suitable  English  verses  in  addition  to  each  of  the  songs  as  written  in 
the  Scotish  dialect,  price  IQJ.  6d.  First  set.  London  :  printed  and  sold  by 
Preston  &  Son  .  .  .  Strand,  for  the  proprietor,  (signed)  G.  Thomson/  n.  d. 
Folio.  Contains  twenty-five  airs,  pp.  1-25.  Preface  dated  May  i,  1793. 

Second  set,  with  varied  title:  'accompanyments'  by  Kozeluch  and  the  'greater 
number  '  of  the  songs  '  written  for  this  work  by  Burns/  n.  d.  [1798].  Twenty- 
five  airs,  pp.  26-50. 

Third  set  same  title  as  second  set  [1799],  pp.  51-75. 

Fourth  set :  ends  vol.  ii.,  accompts.  '  chiefly  by  Kozeluch  and  partly  by 
Pleyel/  otherwise  same  as  third  set  [1799],  pp.  76-100.  Vol.  iii.  pub.  in  1801  ; 
vol.  iv.  'Printed  by  J.  Moir,  1805,'  containing  fifty  airs  each,  harmonized  by 
Haydn;  and  vol.  v.,  preface  dated  June,  1818,  containing  thirty  airs  harmonized 
by  Beethoven,  and  a  mutilated  version  of  The  Jolly  Beggars  by  Burns,  set  to 
music  by  Henry  R.  Bishop.  The  editor  expresses  '  the  satisfaction  he  felt  when 
he  saw  the  practicability  of  excluding  those  passages  without  depriving  the  Poem 
of  its  unity,  its  raciness  of  humour,  or  its  interest ' ! 

The  above  describes  the  original  edition  of  George  Thomson's  collection,  to 
which  Burns  contributed  so  largely.  The  title  is  rarely  quoted  correctly  and 

C3 


xxxviii  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


the  original  volumes  are  difficult  to  recognize,  as  Thomson  made  numerous 
alterations  in  all  the  volumes  during  the  many  years  of  issue. 

The  Vocal  Magazine,  containing  a  selection  of  the  most  esteemed  English, 
Scots,  and  Irish  songs,  ancient  and  modern :  adapted  for  the  harpsichord  or 
violin.  Edinburgh  .  .  .  C.  Stewart  &  Co.,  1797.  8vo.  Vol.  ii.  in.  1798; 
vol.  iii.  in  1799- 

The  Musical  Kepository,  a  collection  of  Scotch,  English,  and  Irish  songs 
set  to  music.  Glasgow:  Printed  by  Alex.  Adams,  1799.  i6mo.  pp.  278. 

The  Jacobite  Belies  of  Scotland :  being  the  songs,  airs,  and  legends  of 
the  adherents  to  the  house  of  Stuart.  Collected  and  illustrated  by  James  Hogg. 
Edinburgh,  1819  and  1821.  2  vols.  8vo. 

The  Select  Melodies  of  Scotland,  interspersed  with  those  of  Ireland  and 
Wales,  united  to  the  songs  of  Robert  Burns,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  other  dis- 
tinguished poets  :  with  symphonies  and  accompaniments  for  the  pianoforte  by 
Pleyel,  Kozeluch,  Haydn,  and  Beethoven.  The  whole  composed  for  and  arranged 
by  George  Thomson  in  five  vols.  London:  Preston,  n. d.  8vo.  [1822-3] 
with  a  sixth  volume  in  1825. 

The  Ballad  Literature  and  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time,  a  history 
of  the  ancient  songs,  ballads,  and  of  the  dance  tunes  of  England  with  numerous 
anecdotes  and  entire  ballads  ...  by  W.  Chappell,  F.  S.  A.  The  whole  of  the  airs 
harmonized  by  G.  A.  Macfarren.  London:  Chappell  &  Co.,  n.  d.  [1859]. 
2  vols.  8vo.  Continuous  pages  823.  Under  a  somewhat  different  title  the 
work  was  issued  to  subscribers  in  1855,  and  to  the  public  in  1859.  Although 
the  author  found  it  very  inconvenient  and  troublesome  to  ascertain  the  date  of 
publication  of  many  of  the  airs,  he  nevertheless  perpetuated  the  trade  custom. 
His  own  work  bears  no  date  of  publication  either  on  the  title  or  introduction. 

Traditional  Ballad  Airs,  arranged  and  harmonized  for  the  pianoforte  and 
harmonium  from  copies  procured  in  the  counties  of  Aberdeen,  Banff,  and 
Moray.  By  W.  A.  Christie  &  Co.  Edinburgh,  1876.  410.  2  vols. 

Histoire  de  la  Chanson  Populaire  en  France,  par  Julien  Tiersot. 
Paris:  Librarie  Plon,  1889.  pp.  viii  and  441. 

Early  Scottish  Melodies  :  including  samples  from  MSS.  and  early  printed 
works,  along  with  a  number  of  comparative  Tunes,  Notes  on  former  annotators, 
.  .  .  Written  and  arranged  by  John  Glen.  Edinburgh:  J.  &  R.  Glen,  1900. 


IV.     INSTRUMENTAL    MUSIC 

'Orchesographie,  metode  et  teorie  en  forme  de  discours  et  tablature  pour 
apprendre  a  dancer,  battre  le  tambour  en  toute  sorte  et  diversite  de  batteries, 
jouer  du  fifre  et  arigot,  tirer  des  armes  et  escrimer,  avec  autres  honnestes 
exercices  fort  convenables  a  la  jeunesse,  affin  d'estre  bien  venue  et  toute  joyeuse 
compagnie  et  y  montrer  sa  dexterite'  et  agilete*  de  corps.  Par  Thoinet  Arbeau, 
demeurant  a  Lengres.  A  Lengres,  par  Jehan  des  Preyz,  imprimeur  et  libraire 
tenant  sa  boutique  en  la  rue  des  Merciers  dicte  les  Pilliers.  MDLXXXIX.  Avec 
privilege  du  Roi.'  This  is  the  full  title  of  a  rare  volume  in  the  Bibliotheque 
Nationale  written  by  a  priest,  Jean  Tabouret,  Canon  of  Lengres,  whose  anagram 
is  Thoinet  Arbeau.  On  pages  80  and  81  are  the  music  and  description  of  a 
Scottish  dance  entitled  Branle  d'Escossc,  as  opposite. 

Brant ome  records  that  he  accompanied  in  Scotland  theyoungDuc  d' Angouleme, 
the  son  of  Henri  II  by  Lady  Fleming  the  governess  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots, 
and  mother  of  Mary  Fleming,  one  of  the  Queen's  Maries.  The  Due  is  described 


INSTRUMENTAL    MUSIC 


XXXIX 


*& 

KLL                                            tte 

KL 

Sp 

^ 

IJ> 

•T      Premier  B  rank  d'Escosse. 

[5) 
y"      Second  Branle  cFEscosse. 

0 

3 

i 

^      Step  to  left. 

i 

I  i.      Step  to  left. 

\ 

Right  foot  approach. 

<i. 

Right  foot  approach. 

1 

1 

i 

~  '      Step  to  left. 

1  '    Step  to  left. 

J        Right  foot  across. 

|  %    Right  foot  across. 

i 

Step  to  right. 

1 
\]      Step  to  right. 

1 
U 

Left  foot  approach. 

()      Left  foot  across. 

t 

Step  to  right. 

Step  to  left. 

'(}      Left  foot  across. 

h 

Right  foot  across. 

k 

"%             C*-~«    4.**    1  ~fi. 

[_^L     step  to  ielt. 

-  & 

n      Step  to  right. 

^      Right  foot  across. 

! 

1       Step  to  right.                                    < 

Left  foot  approach. 

i 

<L 

Left  foot  across.                             w 

Step  to  right. 

|  | 
1 

! 

[Repeat  the  above 

Left  foot  across. 

twelve  movements.] 

L  _  . 

^      Step  to  left. 

i        '  L 

1 

-- 

Right  foot  approach. 

k 

1 

!_- 

_J 

1    Step  to  left. 

~fc 

(-- 

1 

1 

L  .  . 

'  '    Right  foot  across. 

1 

.-- 

~| 

1  L 

| 

~()      Step  to  right. 

... 

1 

[}      Left  foot  across. 

T 

\\ 

i  Right  foot  in  the  air. 

... 
i 

i 

( 
1,                                                                         1 

Left  foot  in  the  air. 

i 

M~ 

1                                    t 

Right  foot  in  the  air. 

- 

- 

(1 

t± 

I 

Hop  and  capriole. 

xl  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


as  one  of  the  best  dancers  of  his  time  and  as  having  introduced  many  Scottish 
dances  to  the  Court  of  France.  Tabouret,  in  his  introduction  to  the  Branles 
d'Escosse,  says  that  they  were  in  vogue  in  1568.  and  refers  his  learners  to  the 
instrumentalists  for  a  knowledge  of  the  movements  of  the  different  Branles 
which  were  then  popular.  Contemporary  evidence  of  dancing  in  Scotland  in 
the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  in  the  Complaynt  of  Scotland,  where 
Branles  and  Brangles  are  named  as  among  the  other  '  licht  dances '  then 
indulged  in  ;  but  there  is  no  example  of  music  in  Scotland  so  early  as  the 
preceding  Scottish  Branle  from  the  Orchesographie  (reprint,  Paris,  1888). 

Bowallan  MS.  c.  1620.  A  tablatnre  lute  book  of  fifty  pages  in  the 
Edinburgh  University  Library  which  formerly  belonged  to  Sir  William  Muir 
of  Rowallan  (1594-1657).  It  contains  a  few  Scottish  melodies. 

Straloch  MS.  1627-9.  '  An  playing  book  for  the  Ivte.  Wherein  ar  con- 
tained many  currents  and  other  musical  things.  Musica  mentis  medicina 
maestae.  At  Abirdeen.  Notted  and  collected  by  Robert  Gordon.  In  the 
yeere  of  our  Lord  1627,  in  Februarie'  .  .  .  Colophon.  '  Finis  huic  libra  im- 
positus.  Anno  D.  1629.  Ad  finem  Decem  6.  In  Stra — Loth.'  A  small 
oblong  8vo  volume  containing  the  original  of  a  number  of  Scottish  melodies, 
a  few  of  which  are  known.  The  MS.  was  sold  by  auction  in  March,  1842, 
to  an  unknown  buyer,  still  undiscovered.  Extracts  from  the  MS.  were  made 
by  G.  F.  Graham,  who  presented  them  in  1847  to  the  Advocates'  Library. 

Skene  MS.  c.  1615-30.  A  small  volume  in  the  Advocates'  Library  con- 
taining 114  tunes,  some  of  which  are  repetitions.  A  translation  in  modern 
notation  of  a  portion  of  the  MS.  is  in  Dauney's  Ancient  Scotish  Melodies,  1838. 

Airs  and  Sonnets,  in  Trinity  College  Library,  Dublin,  marked  F.  5.  13,  is 
part  of  the  imperfect  fifth  volume  of  Woods  MSS.  of  Psalms  and  Canticles 
with  music,  written  in  1569,  pp.  112.  From  p.  34  and  onwards  some  one  of 
later  date  has  written  verses  and  airs  of  a  number  of  Secular  Songs,  '  which  are 
all  netted  heir  with  the  Tennor  or  common  pairt  they  ar  sung  with.' 

Dalhousie  MS.,  of  about  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  century,  is  in  the 
Panmure  Library.  Contains  about  160  airs. 

Fitzwilliam  Virginal  Book  [c.  1650],  edited  by  J.  A.  Fuller  Maitland  and 
\V.  Barclay  Squire.  London,  1894.  Folio.  A  MS.  of  English  music  in  the 
Fitzwilliam  collection,  Cambridge. 

Guthrie  MS.  c.  1670.  In  the  University  Library,  Edinburgh.  Contains 
about  forty  tunes  in  tablature  which  have  not  yet  been  deciphered.  The 
manuscript  was  discovered  by  David  Laing  in  a  bound  volume  of  sermons  by 
James  Guthrie,  a  Covenanting  minister,  who  was  executed  in  1661  for  writing 
a  pamphlet  and  disowning  the  king's  authority.  Most  of  the  titles  of  the  tunes 
are  Scottish. 

Blaikie  MS.  1692.  In  tablature  for  the  Viol  da  Gamba,  containing  up- 
wards of  one  hundred  and  ten  tunes.  This  and  another  MS.  of  1683  with 
nearly  the  same  music  have  disappeared,  but  a  copy  of  a  portion  of  the  1683 
MS.  is  in  the  Dundee  Public  Library. 

Leyden  MS.  c.  1692.  Contains  about  eighty  tunes  in  tablature  for  the 
Lyra  Viol  and  a  few  in  modern  musical  notation.  The  present  owner  of  the 
MS.  is  not  known,  but  a  copy  is  in  the  Advocates'  Library. 

Atkinson  MS.,  1694-5,  is  a  small  volume  in  the  Library  of  the  Society 
of  Antiquaries,  Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  It  bears  the  name  '  Henry  Atkinson  his 
book  169^,'  with  a  note  by  W.  A.  Chappell  to  the  effect  that  Atkinson  was 
a  native  of  Northumberland  and  lived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Hartburn.  It 
contains  English  and  numerous  Scottish  tunes. 


INSTRUMENTAL    MUSIC 


xli 


Hume  MS.     1704.    In  the  Advocates' Library. 
Laing  MS.     1706. 

Crockatt  MS.  1709.  Belonged  to  William  Stenhouse  (who  annotated  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum},  and  after  his  death  became  the  property  of  C.  Kirk- 
patrick  Sharpe,  of  Hoddam.  It  has  since  disappeared,  and  there  is  no  known 
copy  of  it.  Stenhouse  often  quotes  it  in  his  Illustrations. 

Sinkler's  MS.  1710.  Bears  the  docket '  Margaret  Sinkler  aught  this  music 
book  written  by  Andrew  Adam  at  Glasgow  October  the  31  day  1710.'  It  is 
the  property  of  Mr.  John  Glen,  of  Edinburgh,  and  contains  over  one  hundred 
tunes  partly  noted  on  a  six-line  stave. 

Waterston  MS.     c.  1715. 

McFarlan  MSS.  1740.  Three  volumes  with  the  title  '  A  Collection  of 
Scotch  airs  with  the  latest  variations  written  for  the  use  of  Walter  McFarlan 
of  that  Ilk  by  David  Young  W.  M.  in  Edinburgh.  1740.'  The  second  and  third 
volumes  belong  to  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  Edinburgh.  The  first  has  been 
lost. 

Before  the  printing  of  music  in  Scotland  the  originals  of  many  Scottish  airs 
are  found  in  English  publications,  such  as  Playford's  English  Dancing  Master^ 
1651  (in  the  reprint  of  1652  the  title  was  altered  to  the  Dancing  Master,  &c., 
and  so  remained  to  the  last  edition,  <r.  1628);  in  Apollo's  Banquet,  1663,  in 
many  editions ;  the  fifth  in  1687 ;  Mustek's  Delight,  1666 ;  and  Mustek's 
Recreation,  1652. 

1 A  Collection  of  Original  Scotch  Tunes  (full  of  the  Highland  Humours) 
for  the  violin  :  being  the  first  of  this  kind  yet  printed :  most  of  them  being  in 
the  Compass  of  the  flute :  London :  printed  by  William  Pearson  ...  for 
Henry  Playford.  .  .  .  Fleet  Street,  1700.'  Sin.  ob.  4to.  pp.  16.  Tunes  39. 
A  second  edition  in  1701. 


Musick  for  Allan  Ramsay's  Collection 
Alexander  Stuart  and  engraved  by  R.  Cooper. 


of  Scots 
Vol.  i. 


Songs.      Set  by 


and  sold  by  Allan  Ramsay,  n.  d.  [c.  1726]. 

music  of  seventy-one  songs  selected  from  the  Tea-  Table  'Miscellany. 


Edinburgh :   printed 
it 
Only  one 


F 
Sm.  ob.     pp.  156.     Contains  the 


vol.  published. 

'  A  Collection  of  the  Choicest  Scots  Tunes,  adapted  for  the  harpsichord 
or  spinnet,  and  within  the  compass  of  the  voice,  violin,  or  German  flute.  By 
Adam  Craig.  Edinburgh,  1 730.'  Ob.  folio,  pp.  45. 

A  Curious  Collection  of  Scots  Tunes  for  a  violin,  bass  viol,  or  German 
flute,  with  a  thorough  bass  for  the  harpsichord.  ...  By  James  Oswald,  musician 
in  Edinburgh,  n.  d.  [1740].  Ob.  folio,  pp.  42. 

A  Collection  of  Curious  Scots  Tunes  for  a  violin,  German  flute,  or 
harpsichord.  By  Mr.  James  Oswald.  London  :  printed  by  John  Simpson  .  .  . 
n.  d.  [1742].  Folio,  pp.  46.  A  'Second  Collection/  pp.  47,  same  year. 

A  Collection  of  Scots  Tunes,  some  with  variations  for  a  violin,  by  William 
McGibbon  [Book  i.].  Edinburgh:  printed  by  Richard  Cooper,  n.  d.  [1742], 
Ob.  folio.  Book  ii.  in  1746  ;  Book  iii.  in  1755,  both  undated,  pp.  36  each. 

The  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  containing  fifty  of  the  most  favourite 
Scotch  Tunes,  several  of  them  with  variations,  all  set  for  the  German  flute  by 
Mr.  Oswald.  London  :  printed  for  J.  Simpson  in  Sweetings  Alley,  n.  d.  [1743]. 
Roy.  8vo.  pp.  36.  The  complete  work  with  variations  in  the  title-pages 
consists  of  twelve  books  or  'volumes,'  all  undated,  averaging  about  thirty 
pages  each.  The  approximate  dates  of  issue  are  as  follows  :  Vol.  ii.  1 745  » 


xlii  BIBLIOGRAPHY 


vol.  iii.  1751  ;  vol.  iv.  1752  ;  vol.  v.  1753  ;  vol.  vi.  1754;  vol.  vii.  1755;  vol.  viii. 
1756;  vol.  ix.  1758;  vols.  x.,  xi.,  and  xii.  1759.  Burns's  complete  copy,  with  his 
pencil  notes  against  many  of  the  tunes,  and  which  he  presented  to  Nathaniel 
Gow,  was  lately  in  the  possession  of  W.  Law,  of  Littleborough.  The  work 
contains  nearly  560  tunes. 

Caledonian  Country  Dances,  being  a  collection  of  all  the  Scotch  country 
dances  now  in  vogue.  .  .  .  London :  printed  for  and  sold  by  J.  Walsh,  n.  d. 
[1744].  Sm.  ob.  In  eight  books,  various  dates. 

A  Collection  of  Scots  Keels  or  Country  Dances,  with  a  bass  for  the 
violoncello  or  harpsichord.  .  .  .  Edinburgh  :  Printed  and  sold  by  Robert 
Bremner  .  .  .  Ob.  4to.  Published  in  fourteen  numbers  of  eight  pages  each, 
between  the  years  1757  and  1 761,  all  undated.  The  earliest  published  collection 
of 'Reels.' 

Twelve  Scotch  and  Twelve  Irish  Airs,  with  variations  set  for  the  German 
flute,  violin  or  harpsichord,  by  Mr.  Burk  Thumoth.  London  .  .  .  John  Simpson, 
n.d.  [c.  1760].  Roy.  8vo.  pp.  49. 

c  A  Collection  of  the  newest  and  best  Heels  or  Country  Dances.  .  .  . 
Edinburgh  :  printed  for  and  sold  by  Neil  Stewart,'  n.  d.  Ob.  4to.  In  nine 
numbers,  undated,  of  eight  pages  each  issued  from  1761  to  c.  1764. 

'  Fifty  Favourite  Scotch  Airs,  for  a  violin,  German  flute,  and  violoncello, 
with  a  thorough  bass  for  the  harpsichord.'  .  .  .  By  Francis  Peacock.  London  : 
printed  for  the  publisher  in  Aberdeen  .  .  .  n.  d.  [1762].  Folio,  pp.  35. 

A  Collection  of  Scots  Heels  or  Country  Dances,  and  Minuets.  .  .  . 
Composed  by  John  Riddell  in  Ayr.  .  .  .  Edinburgh :  . .  .  Robert  Bremner,  n.  d. 
[1766].  Ob.  4to.  pp.  45.  A  second  edition  'greatly  improved,'  Glasgow, 
c.  1782. 

A  Collection  of  Scots  Tunes  .  .  .  and  a  bass  for  the  violoncello  or  harpsi- 
chord. By  William  McGibbon.  With  some  additions  by  Robert  Bremner. 
London  :  .  . .  Robert  Bremner,  n.  d.  [1768].  Ob.  4to.  pp.  120. 

'  A  Collection  of  Favourite  Scots  Tunes,  with  variations  for  the  violin 
and  a  bass  for  the  violoncello  and  harpsichord,  by  the  late  Mr.  Charles  McLean 
and  other  eminent  masters.  Edinburgh.  Printed  for  and  sold  by  N.  Stewart ' 
.  .  .  n.  d.  [c.  1772].  Ob.  folio,  pp.  37. 

Thirty-seven  New  Reels  and  Strathspeys,  for  the  violin,  harpsichord, 
pianoforte,  or  German  flute.  Composed  by  Daniel  Dow.  Edinburgh  :  printed 
and  sold  by  Neil  Stewart .  .  .  n.  d.  [c.  1776].  Ob.  410.  pp.  26. 

A  Collection  of  Ancient  Scots  Music  for  the  violin,  harpsichord,  or 
German  flute,  never  before  printed.  Consisting  of  Ports*  Salutations,  Marches, 
or  Pibrochs,  by  Daniel  Dow.  Edinburgh,  n.d.  [c.  1776].  Folio,  pp.  46. 

A  Collection  of  the  Newest  and  best  Reels  and  Minuets  with  improve- 
ments, adapted  for  the  violin  or  German  flute.  ...  By  Joshua  Campbell, 
Glasgow.  .  .  .  J.  Aird  .  .  .  n.  d.  [1778].  Ob.  410.^,  pp.  80. 

A  Collection  of  Strathspeys  or  Old  Highland  Reels.  By  Angus  Gumming, 
at  Grantown  in  Strathspey.  Edinburgh,  1780.  Ob.  folio,  pp.  20.  The  first 
collection  of  '  Strathspeys.' 

A  Collection  of  Strathspey  Reels. ...  By  Alexander  McGlashan.  Edin- 
burgh :  printed  .  .  .  and  sold  by  Neil  Stewart,  n.  d.  [1780].  Ob.  folio,  pp.  34. 

A  Choice  Collection  of  Scots  Reels  or  Country  Dances  and  Strathspeys, 
with  a  bass  for  the  violoncello  or  harpsichord.  Edinburgh :  printed  and  sold  by 
Robert  Ross  .  .  .  n.  d.  [1780].  Sm.  ob.  pp.  40. 


INSTRUMENTAL    MUSIC 


xliii 


Ancient  Scotish  Melodies,  from  a  manuscript  of  the  reign  of  James  VI, 
with  an  introductory  inquiry  illustrative  of  the  music  of  Scotland.  By  William 
Dauney.  Edinburgh,  1838.  4to. 

A  Collection  of  Scots  Measures,  Hornpipes,  Jigs  .  .  .  with  a  bass  for 
violoncello  or  harpsichord,  by  Alex.  McGlashan.  Edinburgh  :  N.  Stewart  &  Co. , 
n.  d.  [1781].  Ob.  folio,  pp.  36. 

A  Collection  of  Strathspey  Heels.  . .  .  Composed  by  William  Marshall. 
Edinburgh:  printed  for  Neil  Stewart,  n.  d.  [1781].  Ob.  folio,  pp.  12. 

A  Selection  of  Scotch,  English,  Irish,  and  Foreign  Airs.  . . .  Glasgow : 
Printed  and  sold  by  James  Aird,  n.  d.  [1782].  Sin.  ob.  The  complete  work 
consists  of  six  volumes  of  200  tunes  each,  except  the  last  with  181.  Vol.  ii.  in 
1782;  vol.  iii.  in  1788;  the  last  three  vols.  at  about  1794  to  1799,  all 
undated. 

A  Collection  of  Highland  Vocal  Airs  never  hitherto  published.  To 
which  are  added  a  few  of  the  most  lively  Country  Dances  or  Reels  of  the  North 
Highlands  and  Western  Isles;  and  some  specimens  of  Bagpipe  Music.  By 
Patrick  McDonald,  Minister  of  Kilmore,  in  Argyleshire.  .  .  .  Edinburgh  :  Corri 
&  Sutherland,  n.  d.  [1784].  Folio,  pp.  22  and  43. 

A  Collection  of  Strathspey  Keels  with  a  bass  for  the  violoncello  or  harpsi- 
chord, &c.  ...  By  Niel  Gow  at  Dunkeld.  Edinburgh :  Corri  &  Sutherland, 
n.  d.  [1784].  Folio,  pp.  36.  The  Second  Collection  issued  in  1788  ;  third  in 
1792;  fourth  in  1800  ;  fifth  in  1809;  and  sixth  in  1822.  Various  printers,  and 
all  undated. 

A  Collection  cf  Heels,  consisting  chiefly  of  Strathspeys,  Athole  Reels  .  .  . 
by  Alexander  McGlashan.  Edinburgh  :  printed  for  the  publisher  ...  by  Neil 
Stewart,  n.  d.  [1786].  Ob.  folio,  pp.  46. 

A  Collection  of  Strathspey  Heels,  with  a  bass  for  the  violoncello  or 
harpsichord  ...  by  Malcolm  McDonald.  Edinburgh  :  printed  for  the  author, 
n.  d.  [1788].  Ob.  4to.  pp.  24.  '  A  Second  Collection'  in  1789,  folio,  pp.  13, 
and  a  '  Third  Collection  '  c.  1792,  pp.  12,  all  undated. 

A  Collection  of  Strathspey  Heels  and  Country  Dances.  ...  By  John 
Bowie.  Edinburgh  :  Neil  Stewart,  n.  d.  [1789].  pp.35. 

Sixty-eight  new  Reels,  Strathspeys,  and  Quick  steps.  .  .  .  Composed 
by  Robert  Macintosh.  Printed  for  the  author,  Edinburgh,  n.  d.  [1793].  Folio, 
pp.  39. 

A  Collection  of  Scotch,  Galwegian,  and  Border  Tunes  for  the  violin  and 
pianoforte.  .  .  .  Selected  by  Robert  Riddell  of  Glenriddell,  Esq.  Edinburgh : 
Johnson  &  Co.,  n.  d.  [1794].  Folio,  pp.  37.  The  editor  was  the  friend  of 
Burns. 

New  Strathspey  Reels  for  the  pianoforte,  violin,  and  violoncello.  Com- 
posed by  a  gentleman  and  given  with  permission  to  be  published  by  Nathaniel 
Gow.  Edinburgh  .  .  .  N.  Stewart  &  Co.,  n.d.  [1796].  Folio,  pp.  27.  Said 
to  have  been  composed  by  the  Earl  of  Eglinton. 


CORRECTIONS 


Page  n,  No.  12,  for  tune  see  No.  103. 

13,  „     14,  „          No.  112. 

15,  „     16,  „  No.  284. 

66,  ,,     65,  ,,          No.  112. 

67,  »     66,  line  13  from  foot  for  -waridring  read  wana'ring. 
69,  „     68,  for  tune  see  No.  252  or  309. 

78,  „     81,  „          No.  302. 

95,  „  102,  for  No.  228  read  No.  225. 

97,  „  104,    „   No.  228    „     No.  225. 

99,  „  107,  for  tune  see  No.  308. 

123,  „  135,  „          No.  308. 

138,  „  154,  title,  Thou  hast,  &c. 

146,  „  164,  for  tune  see  No.  239. 

191,  „  214,  „          No.  249. 

198,  ,,222,  title  and  first  line,  for  woo  read  woo\ 

211,  „  236,  for  tune  see  No.  329. 

239,  „  261,  „          No.  283. 

244,  „  266,  crotchet  D  on  fourth  syllable  should  be  dotted 

296,  ,,  315,  end  of  first  line  of  music  should  be  barred. 

324,  ,,  341,  crotchet  E  in  second  line  should  be  dotted. 

346,  >,  358,  stanza  3,  for  lunzie-bane  read  lunzie-banes. 

352,  „       5,  for  6^  read  Gude. 

362,  „     33,  for  W.S.  read  Writer. 

367,  „     46,  last  line,  for  Scottish  read  Scotish. 

376,  „     69,  last  line,  for  Scottish  read  Scotish. 

418,  „  198,  second  last  line,  /should  be  //. 

460,  ,,  275,  line  5,  for  sufra  read  supra. 

461,  ,,  279,  second  last  line,  1797  should  be  1796. 
483,  »  325>  add  in  Kilmarnock  ed.  2786. 

5OI>  ))  356,  second  last  line,  for  Geddes  read  Geddes* 


ftec-simile  of  Burns' 

BY  PERMISSION  OF  WILLIAM   LAW,  ESQ.,  LITTLEBOROUGH 


>-* 


\  .  iJA  Wi-  yOvOtjJ   w   <#Tc  /£n,ouW  '-   '//I.  V&vfa&J  0  {({  vJc  /''*' 

L-\  m  a/a 


J.  ^iA^/N  ^yM\    vmtfivS-  -  -  '>^'Wwf 


xiat^ty>J^^&  -^U  ^^ 

/t  «/t/-<«  ^  WWt'cV^"^.  fyi&tfyMMWMi  JuiH/fW\itf\4    J 


rt.    o^«u      .      oAw 


'      ya     ^- 


'U/  - 

t/.  --•- 

->v>/-  v  ,, 

,  ••i,r^<(»r/^ 

kfS 
* 

$24       /i'fe 

•    -••  v/li\  !JtU./  /  -    ,  uf  ,>/  V  y  V  vY/f/u  t/fn'<*<0\GS\ 

-^W^rr^'^f/  v^" 

,'  V  rtfvj  cf****-  /      ,        ^(<^ 

. 

-'     '/" 

•*v"'   '  /  /      //'  /  :/j 


.  ..X^™^;'£~  Vn^'^v^^^^^ 
!&,.  -Jte^^^fa^— M :  flaw's  Mrftrt* 

'®£^JjM<J$^rtwM ,  -      ^L,  ^         .c^ 


'*s43Lu-^ 


- 

:  -  ** 


* 

-//)  '  v^ 

— 

^ 


rt 
t~'** 

- 


- 


•     ' 


•K],  "\/u  Au- 


u  i  tiiv  f  ,xn  cyy  fa 
u  /•  ."i^  ^«  fawcf^  deuty*.  -  -  '«/ 

.//^/?  //x  riAiVi?-.  -   -  -       -  -  \ 


/  )'.  i 

,/>.  me  Mfi  .         $<***  <    ™ 

'//fa  /to'M  *V  m  M<  nc(J  .v<'t'»\«a  eMfovi  ff\ 


*'  «  '.  > 

•  ''     *       (  b  (  t  /  ,/\(    yy\  M/<  n 


,  • .'  -r  w<  (  vr  i <  t  m*  <YV\A,vunw<yv  ((A  \\<i 

'/'Y^'^  /\c    '^>'<V 

'    * 


//  t/*rwt/  <4  <*)<$*jrf/twy\  V  ^ 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


I.   LOVE  — PERSONAL 


No.  i.    O,  once  I  lovd  a  bonie  lass. 

Tune  :  I  am  a  man  unmarried.         (Unknown.) 


O,  ONCE  I  lov'd  a  bonie  lass, 
Ay,  and  I  love  her  still, 

And  whilst  that  virtue  warms   my 

breast 
I'll  love  my  handsome  Nell. 

As  bonie  lasses  I  hae  seen, 
And  monie  full  as  braw; 

But  for  a  modest,  gracefu'  mien, 
The  like  I  never  saw. 

A  bonie  lass,   I  will  confess, 

Is  pleasant  to  the  e'e  ; 
But  without  some  better  qualities 

She's  no  a  lass  for  me. 


But   Nelly's   looks  are   blythe    and 
sweet ; 

And,  what  is  best  of  a', 
Her  reputation  is  compleat, 

And  fair  without  a  flaw. 

She  dresses  ay  sae  clean  and  neat, 
Both  decent  and  genteel ; 

And  then  there's  something  in  her 

gate, 
Gars  ony  dress  look  weel. 

A  gaudy  dress  and  gentle  air 
May  slightly  touch  the  heart ; 

But  it's  innocence  and  modesty 
That  polishes  the  dart. 


'Tis  this  in  Nelly  pleases  me ; 

'Tis  this  inchants  my  soul, 
For  absolutely  in  my  breast 

She  reigns  without  controul. 


No.  2.   In  Tarbolton,  ye  ken. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

IN  Tarbolton,  ye  ken,  there  are  proper  young  men, 
And  proper  young  lasses  and  a',  man  ; 

But  ken  ye  the  Ronalds  that  live  in  the  Bennals  ? 
They  carry  the  gree  frae  them  a',  man. 

Their  father's  a  laird,  and  weel  he  can  spare't, 
Braid  money  to  tocher  them  a',  man  j 

To  proper  young  men,  he'll  clink  in  the  hand 
Gowd  guineas  a  hunder  or  twa,  man. 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 

There's  ane  they  ca'  Jean,   I'll  warrant  ye've  seen 

As  bonie  a  lass  or  as  braw,  man  ; 
But  for  sense  and  guid  taste  she'll  vie  wi'  the  best, 

And  a  conduct  that  beautifies  a',  man. 

The  charms  o'  the  min',  the  langer  they  shine 
The  mair  admiration  they  draw,  man  ; 

While  peaches  and  cherries,  and  roses  and  lilies, 
They  fade  and  they  wither  awa,  man. 

If  ye  be  for  Miss  Jean,  tak  this  frae  a  frien', 

A  hint  o'  a  rival  or  twa,  man ; 
The  Laird  o'  Blackbyre  wad  gang  through  the  fire, 

If  that  wad  entice  her  awa,  man. 

The  Laird  o'  Braehead  has  been  on  his  speed 
For  mair  than  a  towmond  or  twa,  man  ; 

The  Laird  o'  the  Ford  will  straught  on  a  board, 
If  he  canna  get  her  at  a',  man. 

Then  Anna  comes  in,  the  pride  o'  her  kin, 

The  boast  of  our  bachelors  a',  man  ; 
Sae  sonsy  and  sweet,  sae  fully  complete, 

She  steals  our  affections  awa,  man. 

If  I  should  detail  the  pick  and  the  wale 

O'  lasses  that  live  here  awa,  man, 
The  faut  wad  be  mine,  if  they  didna  shine 

The  sweetest  and  best  o'  them  a',  man. 

I  lo'e  her  mysel,  but  darena  weel  tell, 

My  poverty  keeps  me  in  awe,  man, 
For  making  o'  rhymes,  and  working  at  times, 

Does  little  or  naething  at  a',  man. 

Yet  I  wadna  choose  to  let  her  refuse, 
Nor  hae't  in  her  power  to  say  na,  man  • 

For  though  I  be  poor,  unnoticed,  obscure, 
My  stomach's  as  proud  as  them  a',  man. 

Though  I  canna  ride  in  weel-booted  pride, 
And  flee  o'er  the  hills  like  a  craw,  man, 

I  can  haud  up  my  head  wi'  the  best  o'  the  breed, 
Though  fluttering  ever  so  braw,  man. 

My  coat  and  my  vest,  they  are  Scotch  o'  the  best; 

O'  pairs  o'  guid  breeks  I  hae  twa,  man, 
And  stockings  and  pumps  to  put  on  my  stumps, 

And  ne'er  a  wrang  steek  in  them  a',  man. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


My  sarks  they  are  few,  but  five  o'  them  new, 
Twal'  hundred,  as  white  as  the  snaw,  man; 

A  ten-shillings  hat,  a  Holland  cravat ; 
There  are  no  mony  poets  sae  braw,  man. 

I  never  had  friens  weel  stockit  in  means, 
To  leave  me  a  hundred  or  twa,  man  ; 

Nae  weel-tocher'd  aunts,  to  wait  on  their  drants, 
And  wish  them  in  hell  for  it  a',  man. 

I  never  was  cannie  for  hoarding  o'  money, 

Or  claughtin't  together  at  a',  man, 
I've  little  to  spend  and  naething  to  lend, 

But  deevil  a  shilling  I  awe,  man. 


No.  3.    A  It  ho    my  bed  were  in  yon  muir. 


Tune  :  Gall 

JL     Andante 

i  Water.  Scots  Musia 

-j  p^  ZT- 

il  Museum,  1788,  No. 

125- 

Al 

tho'            my          bed 

-i  —  N  i  "T3  F 

were         in         yon 

^^^^ 

muir, 

—  N 

J  ....      «r] 

W  —  =£3-L 

j  .  /•  J  ib^-- 

'^=^EE£E 

_^  ^___ 

mang    the    hea    -    th.er, 


my 


plaidie, 


Yet  hap      -      py,  hap    -    py 


would 


I         be. 


Had          I  my         dear       Mont      -      gom      -      erie's          Peg  -  gy. 

ALTHO'  my  bed  were  in  yon  muir, 

Amang  the  heather,  in  my  plaidie, 
Yet  happy,  happy  would  I  be, 

Had  I  my  dear  Montgomerie's  Peggy. 

When  o'er  the  hill  beat  surly  storms, 
And  winter  nights  were  dark  and  rainy, 

I'd  seek  some  dell,  and  in  my  arms 
I'd  shelter  dear  Montgomerie's  Peggy. 

Were  I  a  Baron  proud  and  high, 

And  horse  and  servants  waiting  ready, 

Then  a'  'twad  gie  o'  joy  to  me — 
The  shairin't  with  Montgomerie's  Peggy. 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  4.    Yestreen  I  met  you  on  the  moor. 

Tune:  Invercauld's  Reel.         Stewart's  Reels,  1762,  p.  31. 
Lively 


CHORUS.     O       Tib-bic,      I      hae  seen   the  day.   Ye     wad-na    been    sae    shy; 
tr  Fine. 


For    laik     <f     gear  ye   light  -  ly  me,  But,  trvwth,  I       care      na    by. 


Yestr  -  een     I    met  you    on     the  moor,   Ye  spak  na  but  gaed  by  like  stoure : 
tr  B.C. 


Ye      geek   at     me     be-cause     I'm  poor,   But  Cent    a       hair     care    I. 

CHORUS.     O  Tibbie,  I  hae  seen  Ihe  day, 

Ye  ivadna  been  sae  shy ; 

For  laik  o*  gear  ye  lightly  me, 

But,  trowth,  I  care  na  by. 


YESTREEN  I  met  you  on  the  moor, 
Ye  spak  na  but  gaed  by  like  stoure  : 
Ye  geek  at  me  because  I'm  poor, 
But  fient  a  hair  care  I. 

When  comin  hame  on  Sunday  last, 
Upon  the  road  as  I  cam  past, 
Ye  snufft  an'  gae  your  head  a  cast — 
But,  trowth,  I  care't  na  by. 

I  doubt  na,  lass,  but  ye  may  think, 
Because  ye  hae  the  name  o'  clink, 
That  ye  can  please  me  at  a  wink, 
Whene'er  ye  like  to  try. 

But  sorrow  tak  him  that 's  sae  mean, 
Altho'  his  pouch  o'  coin  were  clean, 
Wha  follows  ony  saucy  quean, 
That  looks  sae  proud  and  high  ! 


Altho'  a  lad  were  e'er  sae  smart, 
If  that  he  want  the  yellow  dirt, 
Ye'll  cast  your  head  anither  airt, 
And  answer  him  fu'  dry. 

But  if  he  hae  the  name  o'  gear, 
Ye'll  fasten  to  him  like  a  brier, 
Tho'  hardly  he,  for  sense  or  lear 
Be  better  than  the  kye. 

But,  Tibbie,  lass,  tak  my  advice, 
Your  daddie's  gear  maks  you  sae  nice ; 
The  deil  a  ane  wad  speir  your  price, 
Were  ye  as  poor  as  I. 

There  lives  a  lass  beside  yon  park, 
I'd  rather  hae  her  in  her  sark 
Than  you,  wi'  a'  your  thousand  mark 
That  gars  you  look  sae  high. 


I.     LOVE  !    PERSONAL 


No.  5.   If  ye  gae  up  to  yon  hill-tap. 


(Tune  unknown.) 

IF  ye  gae  up  to  yon  hill-tap, 

Ye'll  there  see  bonie  Peggy ; 
She  kens  her  father  is  a  laird, 

And  she  forsooth  's  a  leddy. 


There 's  Sophy  tight,  a  lassie  bright, 
Besides  a  handsome  fortune  ; 

Wha  canna  win  her  in  a  night 
Has  little  art  in  courtin. 

Gae  down   by  Faile,  and  taste  the 
ale, 

And  tak  a  look  o'  Mysie  ; 
She's  dour  and  din,  a  deil  within, 

But  aiblins  she  may  please  ye. 


If  she  be  shy,  her  sister  try, 
Ye'll  maybe  fancy  Jenny ; 

If  ye'll  dispense  wi'  want  o'  sense- 
She  kens  hersel  she  's  bonie. 


As  ye  gae  up  by  yon  hillside, 
Speir  in  for  bonie  Bessy ; 

She'll   gie  ye    a  beck,   and   bid  ye 

light, 
And  handsomely  address  ye. 

There 's  few  sae  bonie,  nane  sae  guid 
In  a'  King  George'  dominion  ; 

If  ye  should  doubt  the  truth  of  this — 
It 's  Bessy's  ain  opinion ! 


No.  6.   Her  flowing  locks,  the  ravens  wing. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

HER  flowing  locks,  the  raven's  wing, 
Adown  her  neck  and  bosom  hing  ; 
How  sweet  unto  that  breast  to  cling, 
And  round  that  neck  entwine  her.' 

Her  lips  are  roses  wat  wi'  dew ; 
O,  what  a  feast,  her  bonie  mou' ! 
Her  cheeks  a  mair  celestial  hue, 
A  crimson  still  diviner! 


No.  7.    Had  I  a  cave. 

Tune  :  Robin  Adair  or  Aileen  a  roon  (see  No.  45). 


HAD  I  a  cave  on  some  wild  distant 

shore, 
Where  the  winds  howl  to  the  wave's 

dashing  roar, 

There  would  I  weep  my  woes, 
There  seek  my  lost  repose, 
Till  grief  my  eyes  should  close, 
Ne'er  to  wake  more ! 


Falsest  of  womankind,    canst   thou 

declare 
All  thy  fond,  plighted  vows  fleeting 

as  air  ? 

To  thy  new  lover  hie, 
Laugh  o'er  thy  perjury, 
Then  in  thy  bosom  try 
What  peace  is  there ! 


6  TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  8.    //  ivas  upon  a  Lammas  night. 

Tune  :  Corn  rigs.         Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730,  p.  42. 
ely 


Lively 


It       was    up  -  on          a        Lammas  night,  When       corn        rigs        are 


bon  -  ie,      Be  -  neath    the  moon's       un     -     cloud    -    ed  light, 


~W~    v  X.    W  ^  V  0   >^.          _x-  *  •** 


held      a     -     \va         to  An 


nip. :      The    time  flew    by,     wi' 


tent  -  less  heed,  Till    'tween       the          late          and  ear 


Wi'          sma'      per     -     sua     -     sion  she 


greed 


To  see  me         thro'          the  bar 


ley. 


CHORUS. 


Corn     rigs,  an'     bar-ley  rigs^  An1      corn          rigs     are         bon     •     ie . 


I'll  ne'er     for    -     get  that  hap      •     Py 


mang        the  rigs  u<r  An 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


IT  was  upon  a  Lammas  night, 

When  corn  rigs  are  bonie, 
Eeneath  the  moon's  unclouded  light, 

I  held  awa  to  Annie  : 
The  time  flew  by,  wi'  tentless  heed*, 

Till,  'tween  the  late  and  early, 
Wi'  sma'  persuasion  she  agreed 

To  see  me  thro'  the  barley. 

CHORUS.     Corn  rigs,  an'  barley  rigs, 
An'  corn  rigs  are  bonie: 
ril  neer  forget  that  happy  night, 
Amang  the  rigs  wf  Annie. 

The  sky  was  blue,  the  wind  was  still, 

The  moon  was  shining  clearly  ; 
I  set  her  down,  wi'  right  good  will, 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley : 
I  kent  her  heart  was  a'  my  ain ; 

I  lov'd  her  most  sincerely  ; 
I  kiss'd  her  owre  and  owre  again, 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley. 

I  lock'd  her  in  my  fond  embrace  ; 

Her  heart  was  beating  rarely  : 
My  blessings  on  that  happy  place, 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley ! 
But  by  the  moon  and  stars  so  bright, 

That  shone  that  hour  so  clearly ! 
She  ay  shall  bless  that  happy  night 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley. 

I  hae  been  blythe  wi'  comrades  dear; 

I  hae  been  merry  drinking ; 
I  hae  been  joyfu'  gath'rin  gear; 

I  hae  been  happy  thinking: 
But  a'  the  pleasures  e'er  I  saw, 

Tho'  three  times  doubled  fairly, 
That  happy  night  was  worth  them  a', 

Amang  the  rigs  o'  barley. 


In  editions  1786  and  1787,  'head';  editions  1793  and  1794,  'heed. 


8 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  9.    O,  leave  novels,  ye  Mauchline  belles. 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  573. 


Tune :  Ye  Mauchline  belles. 
Lively 


-^- '  ^~.  -^- ^ 

O,       leave    no  -  vels,      ye  Mauch-line  belles,  Ye'  re   sa  -   fer      at      your 


m 


spin  •  ning  wheel!    Such  witch   -   ing  books      are        bait  -  ed    hooks     For 

r 


rak   •    ish   rooks  like    Rob  Moss  -  giel.  Your       fine  Tom  Jones    and 

r 


Gran  -  di  •  sons     They       make  your   youth   -  ful       fan  -  cies    reel ;   They 


heat  your  brains,  and      fire  your  veins,  And    then  you  're  prey  for   Rob  Mossgiel. 


O,  LEAVE  novels,  ye  Mauchline  belles, 
Ye  Ye  safer  at  your  spinning-wheel  ! 

Such  witching  books  are  baited  hooks 
For  rakish  rooks  like  Rob  Mossgiel. 

Your  fine  Tom  Jones  and  Grandisons 
They  make  your  youthful  fancies  reel  ; 

They  heat  your  brains,  and  fire  your  veins, 
And  then  you're  prey  for  Rob  Mossgiel. 

Beware  a  tongue  that  's  smoothly  hung, 
A  heart  that  warmly  seems  to  feel  ; 

That  feeling  heart  but  acts  a  part  — 
'Tis  rakish  art  in  Rob  Mossgiel. 

The  frank  address,  the  soft  caress, 

Are  worse  than  poisoned  darts  of  steel  ; 

The  frank  address,  and  politesse, 
Are  all  finesse  in  Rob  Mossgiel. 


*  An  8ve  lower  in  original. 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


No.  10.    O,  wha  my  babie-clouts  will  buyf 

Tune  :  Whare  wad  bonie  Annie  lie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  324. 
Lively 


O,        \vha  my    ba  -  bie  -  clouts  will  buy?  Wha  will      tent     me 


when    I     cry?  Wha  will    kiss       me       where    I    lie?  The          ran   -   tin 


dog,      the         dad  -  die     o't.          Wha       will      own   he        did    the    faut? 


Wha       will       buy    the       groan  -  in    maut  ?      Wha       will      tell     me 


how     to    ca't?     The         ran     -     tin        dog,         the         dad  -  die     o't. 

O,  WHA  my  babie-clouts  will  buy? 
Wha  will  tent  me  when  I  cry? 
Wha  will  kiss  me  where  I  lie? — 
The  rantin  dog,  the  daddie  o't. 

Wha  will  own  he  did  the  faut? 
Wha  will  buy  the  groan  in  maut? 
Wha  will  tell  me  how  to  ca  't  ? — 
The  rantin  dog,  the  daddie  o't. 

When  I  mount  the  creepie-chair, 
Wha  will  sit  beside  me  there? 
Gie  me  Rob,  I'll  seek  nae  mair, — 
The  rantin  dog,  the  daddie  o't. 

Wha  will  crack  to  me  my  lane? 
Wha  will  mak  me  fidgin  fain  ? 
Wha  will  kiss  me  o'er  again  ? — 
The  rantin  dog,  the  daddie  o't. 


10 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  ii.  Now  westlin  winds  and  slaughtering  gnus. 

Tune:  Port  Gordon.          CaL  Pocket  Companion^  c.  1756,  viii.  p.  25. 
Slow 


Now    \vest-lin  winds   and  slaughtering  guns  Bring    Autumn's     plea  -  sant 


wea-ther;    And  the      moor  -  cock  springs,   on        whirr  -  ing  wings,  A 


^E 


mang  the  bloom  -  ing  hea-ther:  Now  wav  -  ing  grain,  wide    o'er  the  plain, 

fr  tr 


lU  ~^** 


De    -    lights  the      wea    -    ry  far  -   mer ;  And  the  moon  shines  bright, 


when     I       rove    at     night,   To       muse        up  -   on  iny       charm  -  er. 

Now  westlin  winds  and  slaught'ring  guns 

Bring  autumn's  pleasant  weather ; 
And  the  moorcock  springs,   on  whirring  wings, 

Amang  the  blooming  heather  : 
Now  waving  grain,  wide  o'er  the  plain, 

Delights  the  weary  farmer; 
And  the  moon  shines  bright,  when  I  rove  at  night, 

To  muse  upon  my  charmer. 

The  partridge  loves  the  fruitful  fells ; 

The  plover  loves  the  mountains  ; 
The  woodcock  haunts  the  lonely  dells, 

The  soaring  hern  the  fountains : 
Thro'  lofty  groves  the  cushat  roves. 

The  path  of  man  to  shun  it ; 
The  hazel  bush  o'erhangs  the  thrush, 

The  spreading  thorn  the  linnet. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


II 


Thus  ev'ry  kind  their  pleasure  find, 

The  savage  and  the  tender  ; 
Some  social  join,  and  leagues  combine  ; 

Some  solitary  wander : 
Avaunt,  away  !   the  cruel  sway, 

Tyrannic  man's  dominion  ; 
The  sportsman's  joy,  the  murd'ring  c^, 

The  fluttering,  gory  pinion ! 

But  Peggy  dear,  the  evening's  clear, 

Thick  flies  the  skimming  swallow; 
The  sky  is  blue,  the  fields  in  view, 

All  fading  green  and  yellow  : 
Come  let  us  stray  our  gladsome  way, 

And  view  the  charms  of  Nature  ; 
The  rustling  corn,  the  fruited  thorn, 

And  ev'ry  happy  creature. 

We'll  gently  walk,  and  sweetly  talk, 

Till  the  silent  moon  shine  clearly ; 
I'll  grasp  thy  waist,  and  fondly  prest, 

Swear  how  I  love  thee  dearly : 
Not  vernal  show'rs  to  budding  flow'rs, 

Not  autumn  to  the  farmer, 
So  dear  can  be,  as  thou  to  me, 

My  fair,  my  lovely  charmer ! 


No.  12.    Full  well  thou  knowst  I  love  tkee,  dear 

Tune  :  Rothiemnrchie 's  rani. 

CHORUS.     Fairest  maid  on  Devon  banks, 
Crystal  Devon,  winding  Devon, 
Wilt  thou  lay  that  frown  aside, 
And  smile  as  thou  wert  wont  to. do? 

FULL  well  thou  know'st  I  love  thee,  dear, 
Couldst  thou  to  malice  lend  an  ear? 
O,  did  not  love  exclaim  : — '  Forbear, 
Nor  use  a  faithful  lover  so ! ' 

Then  come,  thou  fairest  of  the  fair, 
Those  wonted  smiles,   O  let  me  share; 
And  by  thy  beauteous  self  I  swear 

No  love  but  thine  my  heart  shall  know. 


12 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  13.    Behind  yon  hills  where  L^lgar  flows. 

Tune  :  My  Nanie,  O.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  38. 

Slowly 

5£=E 


S= 


Be     -      liind         yon        hills        where  Lu     -     gar      flows 


^ 


S 


5* 


'Mang         moors        an'         moss     -     es 


ny,  O, 


The  win  -    try  sun  the  day         has      clos'd, 


And 


a     -     wa  to  Nan    -    ie,          O. 


?£= 


The  west      -      lin     wind          blaws  loud        an'        shill; 


The  night's      baith      mirk          and  rai     -     ny,          O 


But     I'll  get       my          plaid,  an'  out        I'll         steal, 


An'          owre  the          hill  to 


Nan     •     ie,  O. 


BEHIND  yon  hills  where  Lugar  flows 

'Mang  moors  an'  mosses  many,  O, 
The  wintry  sun  the  day  has  clos'd, 

And  I'll  awa  to  Nanie,  O. 
The  westlin  wind  blaws  loud  an*  shill ; 

The  night's  baith  mirk  and  rainy,  O  ; 
But  I'll  get  my  plaid,  an*  out  I'll  steal, 

An'  owre  the  hill  to  Nanie,  O. 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


T3 


My  Nanie  's  charming,  sweet  an'  young ; 

Nae  artfu'  wiles  to  win  ye,  O ; 
May  ill  befa'  the  flattering  tongue 

That  wad  beguile  my  Nanie,  O. 
Her  face  is  fair,  her  heart  is  true  ; 

As  spotless  as  she's  bonie,  O; 
The  op'ning  gowan,  wat  wi'  dew, 

Nae  purer  is  than  Nanie,  O. 
A  country  lad  is  my  degree, 

An'  few  there  be  that  ken  me,   O  ; 
But  what  care  I  how  few  they  be, 

I'm  welcome  ay  to  Nanie,  O. 
My  riches  a's  my  penny-fee, 

An'  I  maun  guide  it  cannie,  O ; 
But  warl's  gear  ne'er  troubles  me, 

My  thoughts  are  a',  my  Nanie,  O. 
Our  auld  guidman  delights  to  view 

His  sheep  an'  kye  thrive  bonie,  O; 
But  I'm  as  blythe  that  hauds  his  pleugh, 

An'  has  nae  care  but  Nanie,  O. 
Come  weel,  come  woe,  I  care  na  by, 

I'll  tak  what  Heav'n  will  sen'  me,  O  ; 
Nae  ither  care  in  life  have  I, 

But  live,  an'  love  my  Nanie,  O ! 


No.  14.    True-hearted  was  he,  the  sad  swain 
o    the  Yarrow. 

Tune  :  Bonie  Dundee. 
TRUE-HEARTED  was  he,  the  sad  swain  o'  the  Yarrow, 

And  fair  are  the  maids  on  the  banks  of  the  Ayr  ; 
But  by  the  sweet  side  o'  the  Nith's  winding  river 

Are  lovers  as  faithful  and  maidens  as  fair : 
To  equal  young  Jessie  seek  Scotia  all  over: 

To  equal  young  Jessie  you  seek  it  in  vain  ; 
Grace,  beauty,  and  elegance  fetter  her  lover, 

And  maidenly  modesty  fixes  the  chain. 
Fresh  is  the  rose  in  the  gay,  dewy  morning, 

And  sweet  is  the  lily  at  evening  close ; 
But  in  the  fair  presence  o'  lovely  young  Jessie 

Unseen  is  the  lily,  unheeded  the  rose. 
Love  sits  in  her  smile,  a  wizard  ensnaring ; 

Enthron'd  in  her  een  he  delivers  his  law ; 
And  still  to  her  charms  she  alone  is  a  stranger — 

Her  modest  demeanour's  the  jewel  of  a'! 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  15.    Young  Peggy  blooms  our  boniest  lass. 

Tune  :  Loch  Eroch  Side.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  78. 
Andante 


Young  Peg    -    gy      blooms        our          bon     -      iest       lass, 


Her 


blush 


is         like          the 


ing, 


ro     -     sy        dawn,          the        spring    -    ing  grass, 


And 


glit      -      ter      o'er  the      chrys     -     tal    streams, 


And  chear  each      fresh'     -     ning  flow 

YOUNG  Peggy  blooms  our  boniest  lass, 

Her  blush  is  like  the  morning, 
The  rosy  dawn,  the  springing  grass, 

With  early  gems  adorning ; 
Her  eyes  outshine  the  radiant  beams 

That  gild  the  passing  shower, 
And  glitter  o'er  the  chrystal  streams, 

And  chear  each  fresh'ning  flower. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


Her  lips,  more  than  the  cherries  bright- 

A  richer  dye  has  graced  them — 
They  charm  th'  admiring  gazer's  sight, 

And  sweetly  tempt  to  taste  them  ; 
Her  smile  is  as  the  ev'ning  mild, 

When  feather'd  pairs  are  courting, 
And  little  lambkins  wanton  wild, 

In  playful  bands  disporting. 
Were  Fortune  lovely  Peggy's  foe, 

Such  sweetness  would  relent  her : 
As  blooming  Spring  unbends  the  brow 

Of  surly,  savage  Winter. 
Detraction's  eye  no  aim  can  gain 

Her  winning  powers  to  lessen, 
And  fretful  envy  grins  in  vain 

The  poison'd  tooth  to  fasten. 
Ye  Powers  of  Honor,  Love,  and  Truth, 

From  ev'ry  ill  defend  her ! 
Inspire  the  highly-favour'd  youth 

The  destinies  intend  her ! 
Still  fan  the  sweet  connubial  flame 

Responsive  in  each  bosom ; 
And  bless  the  dear  parental  name 

With  many  a  filial  blossom. 


No.  1 6.    Althd  thou  maun  never  be  mine. 

Tune :  Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa. 

CHORUS.     Here's  a  health  to  ane  I  lo'e  dear. 

Here's  a  health  to  ane  1  Ide  dear', 
Thou  art  sweet  as  the  smile  ivhen  fond  lovers  meet, 

And  soft  as  their  parting  tear — Jessy. 
ALTHO'  thou  maun  never  be  mine, 

Altho'  even  hope  is  denied ; 
'Tis  sweeter  for  thee  despairing 

Than  ought  in  the  world  beside — Jessy. 

I  mourn  thro'  the  gay,  gaudy  day, 

As  hopeless  I  muse  on  thy  charms ; 
But  welcome  the  dream  o'  sweet  slumber, 

For  then  I  am  lockt  in  thine  arms— Jessy. 

I  guess  by  the  dear  angel  smile, 

I  guess  by  the  love-rolling  e'e ; 
But  why  urge  the  tender  confession, 

'Gainst  Fortune's  fell  cruel  decree? — 


i6 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  17.    The  Catrine  woods  were  yellow  seen. 

Tune  :   The  braes  o'  Ballochmyle.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  276. 

Slow 


The          Ca    •    trine     woods    were  yel     -     low  seen, 


The         flowers        de     -     cay'd         on  Ca      -      trine      lea; 

± 


3 


-» r 


Nae         lav'     -     rock     sang  on  hil     •     lock        green, 


? 


But          Na    -    ture         sick     -     en'd 


the  e'e ; 


Thro'          fa 


Her      -      sel'  in  beau    -    ty's         bloom  the  while 


And  ay  the  wild    -    wood 


1  Fare    -    weel  the  braes  o'  Bal     -     loch  -  myle ! ' 


THE  Catrine  woods  were  yellow  seen, 

The  flowers  decay'd  on  Catrine  lea  ; 
Nae  lav'rock  sang  on  hillock  green, 

But  Nature  sicken'd  on  the  e'e; 
Thro'  faded  groves  Maria  sang, 

Hersel'  in  beauty's  bloom  the  while  j 
And  ay  the  wild-wood  echoes  rang ; — 

'  Fareweel  the  braes  o'  Ballochmyle  J ' 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


'Low  in  your  wintry  beds,  ye  flowers, 

Again  ye'll  flourish  fresh  and  fair; 
Ye  birdies,  dumb  in  withVing  bowers, 

Again  ye'll  charm  the  vocal  air ; 
But  here,  alas !    for  me  nae  mair 

Shall  birdie  charm,  or  floweret  smile ; 
Fareweel  the  bonie  banks  of  Ayr, 

Fareweel !    fareweel  sweet  Ballochmyle  ! 


No.  1 8.    Stay,  my  charmer,  can  y OIL  leave  me? 

Tune:  An  gille  dubh  ciar  dubh.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  129. 

Slaw 


Stay,      my     charm  -  er,          can  you        leave    me?    Cru    -    el, 


to  de 


ceive        me !        Well          3rou 


you          grieve       me :          Cru 


charm  -  er,          can    you    go?       Cru    •    el      charm  -  er,         can    you    go? 

STAY,  my  charmer,  can  you  leave  me? 

Cruel,  cruel  to  deceive  me ! 

Well  you  know  how  much  you  grieve  me : 

Cruel  charmer,  can  you  go  ? 

Cruel  charmer,  can  you  go  ? 

By  my  love  so  ill  requited, 

By  the  faith  you  fondly  plighted, 

By  the  pangs  of  lovers  slighted, 

Do  not,  do  not  leave  me  so  ! 

Do  not,  do  not  leave  me  so ! 


i8 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  19.    My  heart  was  ance  as  blythe  and  free. 


Tune  :   To  the  weaver's  gin  ye  go. 
Slowly 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  103. 


My      heart  was  ance      as     blythe  and  free    as         sim  -  mer  days   were 


lang ;  But  a      bonie,  west  -  lin       weaver    lad    Has  gart  me  change  my   sang. 
CHORUS. 


To  the      weavers  gin  ye        go,  fair  maids,  To    the     weavers  gin    ye 


go,       1     rede  you  right, gang ne^er  at night,To  the  weavers  gin    ye     go. 

MY  heart  was  ance  as  blythe  and  free 

As  simmer  days  were  lang ; 
But  a  bonie,  westlin  weaver  lad 

Has  gart  me  change  my  sang. 

CHORUS.      To  the  weaver  s  gin  ye  go,  fair  maids, 

To  the  weaver's  gin  ye  go, 
I  rede  you  right,  gang  ne'er  at  night, 
To  the  weavers  gin  ye  go, 

My  mither  sent  me  to  the  town, 

To  warp  a  plaiden  wab  ; 
But  the  weary,  weary  warpin  o't 

Has  gart  me  sigh  and  sab. 

A  bonie,  westlin  weaver  lad 

Sat  working  at  his  loom  ; 
He  took  my  heart,  as  wi'  a  net, 

In  every  knot  and  thrum. 

I  sat  beside  my  warpin-wheel, 

And  ay  I  ca'd  it  roun' ; 
But  every  shot  and  every  knock, 

My  heart  it  gae  a  stoun. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


The  moon  was  sinking  in  the  west 

Wi'  visage  pale  and  wan, 
As  my  bonie,  westlin  weaver  lad 

Convoy'd  me  through  the  glen. 

But  what  was  said,  or  what  was  done, 

Shame  fa'  me  gin  I  tell ; 
But  O  !    I  fear  the  kintra  soon 

Will  ken  as  weel  's  mysel ! 


No.  20.    How  long  and  dreary  is  the  night. 

Tune:  A  Gaelic  air.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  175. 
Slow 


How    long    and  drear-y         is     the     night,  When     I      am  frae    my 


dear   -   ie ! 


sleep  -  less    lye         frae         e'en        to    morn,    Tho 


I    were  ne'er     sae       wear  -  y. 


sleep  -  less  lye          frae 


0 — : —  • 1 m. 1 


Tho' 


I    were    ne'er 


How  long  and  dreary  is  the  night, 

When  I  am  frae  my  dearie ! 
I  sleepless  lye  frae  e'en  to  morn,  )  , . 

Tho'  I  were  ne'er  sae  weary. 

When  I  think  on  the  happy  days 

I  spent  wi'  you,  my  dearie : 
And  now  what  lands  between  us  lye,  )  , . 

How  can  I  be  but  eerie  ! 

How  slow  ye  move,  ye  heavy  hours, 

As  ye  were  wae  and  weary ! 
It  wasna  sae  ye  glinted  by,       )  ^ . 

When  I  was  wi'  my  dearie. 

C    2 


20 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  21.    Yon  wild  mossy  mountains. 

Tune  :  Phoebe.         Cal.  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  p.  19. 


Where  the  grouse  lead    their         cov-eys  thro'  the     heath    -    er  to          feed, 


And   the  shep  -  herd        tents    his   flock   as          he         pipes  on    his      reed. 
tr 


Where  the  grouse  lead     their     cov  -  eys     thro'    the   heath -er        to  feeci 


And  the    shep-herd  tents  his  flock  as         he       pipes      on  his         reed. 


YON  wild  mossy  ihountains  sae  lofty  and  wide, 

That  nurse  in  their  bosom  the  youth  o'  the  Clyde, 

Where  the  grouse  lead  their  coveys  thro'  the  heather  to  feed,  ) 

And  the  shepherd  tents  his  flock  as  he  pipes  on  his  reed.          \ 

Not  Cowrie's  rich  valley  nor  Forth's  sunny  shores, 
To  me  hae  the  charms  o'  yon  wild  mossy  moors  ; 
For  there,  by  a  lanely,  sequestered  stream,  )  , . 

Resides  a  sweet  lassie,  my  thought  and  my  dream,  i 

Amang  thae  wild  mountains  shall  still  be  my  path, 
Ilk  stream  foaming  down  its  ain  green,  narrow  strath  ; 
For  there  wi'  my  lassie  the  day-lang  I  rove, 
While  o'er  us  unheeded  flie  the  swift  hours  o'  love. 


She  is  not  the  fairest,  altho'  she  is  fair- 
O'  nice  education  but  sma*  is  her  share ;  • 
Her  parentage  humble  as  humble  can  be ; 
But  I  lo'e  the  dear  lassie  because  she  lo'es  me. 


tis 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


21 


To  Beauty  what  man  but  maun  yield  him  a  prize, 
In  her  armour  of  glances,  and  blushes,  and  sighs? 
And  when  wit  and  refinement  hae  polish'd  her  darts,  )  ,  . 
They  dazzle  our  een,  as  they  flie  to  our  hearts.  \ 

But  kindness,  sweet  kindness,  in  the  fond  sparkling  e'e 
Has  lustre  outshining  the  diamond  to  me, 
And  the  heart-beating  love  as  I'm  clasp'd  in  her  arms,  )  , . 
O,  these  are  my  lassie's  all-conquering  charms  ! 


'No.  22.    Anna,  thy  charms  my  bosom  fire. 

Tune:  Bonny  Mary.         CaL  Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  p.  24. 

Slow 


Ann      -     a,  thy    charms    my         bo   -    som        fire,        And 

:gz_    iq^^zzz^      p_g       ^  _i_^ 


with  care ;  But  ah !          licm 


boot  - 


to  ad    •    mire    When    fa     -     ted    to    des  -  pair  ! 

tr 


Yet  in  thy  pre-sence,        love    -    ly          Fair,      To 


hope      may       be        for  -  given ;        For  sure          'twere    im  -  pious 


to         des    -    pair       so        much  in  sight        of        Hea  -  ven. 


ANNA,  thy  charms  my  bosom  fire, 

And  waste  my  soul  with  care  ; 
But  ah  !   how  bootless  to  admire 

When  fated  to  despair ! 
Yet  in  thy  presence,  lovely  Fair, 

To  hope  may  be  forgiven  ; 
For  sure  'twere  impious  to  despair 

So  much  in  sight  of  Heaven. 


22 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  23.   'Twas  even — the  dewy  fields  were  green. 

Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  45. 


Tune  :  Ettrick  Banks. 
Moderate 


'Twas   even— the    dew    -    y         fields  were  green,  On       ev  -  ery  blade  the 


pearls      hang,  The      Ze  -  phyr  wan  -  ton'd       round    the    bean,  And 


fra    -     grant     sweets     a  -  Jang; 


glen      the        ma      -      vis        sang,    All  Na     -     ture   list1  -  ning 


seenVd        the       while,      Ex      -      cept     where  green  -  wood       e  -  choes 


rang 


A     -    mang    the 


braes 


loch  -  myle. 


TWAS  even — the  dewy  fields  were  green, 

On  every  blade  the  pearls  hang, 
The  zephyr  wanton'd  round  the  bean, 

And  bore  its  fragrant  sweets  alang ; 

In  ev'ry  glen  the  mavis  sang, 
All  Nature  list'ning  seem'd  the  while, 

Except  where  greenwood  echoes  rang 
Amang  the  braes  o*  Ballochmyle. 

With  careless  step  I  onward  stray'd, 
My  heart  rejoic'd  in  Nature's  joy, 

When,  musing  in  a  lonely  glade, 
A  maiden  fair  I  chanced  to  spy  : 
Her  look  was  like  the  morning's  eye, 

Her  air  like  Nature's  vernal  smile  ; 
Perfection  whisper'd,  passing  by : — 

'Behold  the  lass  o'  Ballochmyle!1 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


Fair  is  the  morn  in  flowery  May, 
And  sweet  is  night  in  autumn  mild, 

When  roving  thro'  the  garden  gay, 
Or  wand'ring  in  the  lonely  wild: 
But  woman,  Nature's  darling  child — 

There  all  her  charms  she  does  compile  ; 
Even  there  her  other  works  are  foil'd 

By  the  bonie  lass  o'  Ballochmyle.      -V^ 

O,  had  she  been  a  country  maid, 

And  I  the  happy  country  swain, 
Tho'  sheltered  in  the  lowest  shed 

That  ever  rose  on  Scotia's  plain ! 

Thro'  weary  winter's  wind  and  rain 
With  joy,  with  rapture,  I  would  toil, 

And  nightly  to  my  bosom  strain 
The  bonie  lass  o'  Ballochmyle! 

Then  pride  might  climb  the  slipp'ry  steep, 
Where  fame  and  honours  lofty  shine ; 

And  thirst  of  gold  might  tempt  the  deep, 
Or  downward  seek  the  Indian  mine: 
Give  me  the  cot  below  the  pine, 

To  tend  the  flocks  or  till  the  soil, 
And  ev'ry  day  have  joys  divine 

With  the  bonie  lass  o'  Ballochmyle. 


No.  24.   As  I  gaed  up  by  yon  gate-end. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

As  I  gaed  up  by  yon  gate-end, 
When  day  was  waxin  weary, 

Wha  did  I  meet  come  down  the  street 
But  pretty  Peg,  my  dearie  ? 

Her  air  sae  sweet,  her  shape  complete, 

Wi'  nae  proportion  wanting, 
The  Queen  of  Love  did  never  move 

Wi'  motion  mair  enchanting ! 

Wi'  linked  hands  we  took  the  sands 

Adoun  yon  winding  river ; 
O,  that  sweet  hour  and  shady  bower 

Forget  it  shall  I  never. 


24 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  25.   How  pleasant  the  banks. 

Tune  :  Bhannerach  dhon  na  chrie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  157. 
Slow 


How        pleas -ant  the  banks  of     the       clear   wind  -  ing    De   -  von, 


With        green   spread-ing     bush  -   es    .  and      flow'rs    bloom  -  ing      fair ! 


But    the 


bo  -     ni  -  est    flow'r     on     the   banks     of     the     De    -    von 


Was       once         a     sweet    bud        on     the       braes      of     the    Ayr. 
fc. 


Mild        be        the         sun        on       this       sweet     blush  -  ing      flo 


w    -     er 


In      the       gay        ro    -   sy     morn,      as      it         bathes       in      the      dew! 


And      gen    -    tie      the       fall        of     the       soft        ver    -    nal    show  -  er, 


That        steals      on      the      even    -    ing    each        leaf         to        re   -   new ! 

How  pleasant  the  banks  of  the  clear  winding  Devon, 

With  green  spreading  bushes  and  flow'rs  blooming  fair! 
But  the  boniest  flow'r  on  the  banks  of  the  Devon 

Was  once  a  sweet  bud  on  the  braes  of  the  Ayr. 
Mild  be  the  sun  on  this  sweet  blushing  flower, 

In  the  gay  rosy  morn,  as  it  bathes  in  the  dew ! 
And  gentle  the  fall  of  the  soft  vernal  shower, 

That  steals  oh  the  evening  each  leaf  to  renew ! 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


O,  spare  the  dear  blossom,  ye  orient  breezes, 

With  chill,  hoary  wing  as  ye  usher  the  dawn ! 
And  far  be  thou  distant,  thou  reptile  that  seizes 

The  verdure  and  pride  of  the  garden  or  lawn  ! 
Let  Bourbon  exult  in  his  gay  gilded  lilies, 

And  England  triumphant  display  her  proud  rose  ! 
A  fairer  than  either  adorns  the  green  vallies, 

Where  Devon,  sweet  Devon,  meandering  flows. 


No.  26.    The  flower  it  blaws,  it  fades,  it  fas. 

Tune  :  Ye' re  welcome  Charlie  Stewart.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No-.,  471. 
Lively 


tdt 


Stew  -  art,  There  \?   ne'er     a  flower  that       blooms       in    May>   That's 

Fine. 


half       so    fair       as         thou     art!  The        flower        it  blaws,  it 


worth     and  truth  e    -    ter  -  nal  youth  Will    gie         to  Pol  •  ly      Stew  -  art ! 

CHORUS.     O  lovely  Polly  Stewart, 

O  charming  Polly  Stewart, 
There 's  ne'er  a  flower  that  blooms  in  May, 
That's  half  so  fair  as  thou  art! 

THE  flower  it  blaws,  it  fades,  it  fa's, 

And  art  can  ne'er  renew  it; 
But  worth  and  truth  eternal  youth 

Will  gie  to  Polly  Stewart! 

May  he  whase  arms  shall  fauld  thy  charms  . 

Possess  a  leal  and  true  heart ! 
To  him  be  given  to  ken  the  heaven 

He  grasps  in  Polly  Stewart ! 


26 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


Slow 


No.  27.   From  thee  Eliza,  I  must  go. 

Tune:  Gilderoy.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  47. 


From 


thee 


za, 


I         must    go,      And 


^ 


1-1 


I 


•t*1-4* 

from  my       na    -    tive        shore:     The 


fates        be  - 


•een        us      throw     A        bound    -    less         o    -    cean's         roar; 


But 


bound   -    less    o 


ceans, 


roar    -    ing      wide          Be  - 


tween    my    love      and          me,         They         nev    -    er,        nev    -    er 


di    -    vide    My        heart       and        soul        from          thee. 

FROM  thee  Eliza,  I  must  go, 

And  from  my  native  shore : 
The  cruel  fates  between  us  throw 

A  boundless  ocean's  roar ; 
But  boundless  oceans,  roaring  wide 

Between  my  love  and  me, 
They  never,  never  can  divide 

My  heart  and  soul  from  thee. 

Farewell,  farewell,  Eliza  dear, 

The  maid  that  I  adore ! 
A  boding  voice  is  in  mine  ear, 

We  part  to  meet  no  more ! 
But  the  latest  throb  that  leaves  my  heart, 

While  Death  stands-  victor  by, 
That  throb,  Eliza,  is  thy  part, 

And  thine  that  latest  sigh! 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


27 


No.  28.    Where,  braving  angry  winter's  storms. 

I'une  :  Lament  for  Abercaimcy.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  195. 


Moderate  time 


Where,    brav  -  ing      an  -   gry  win  -  ter's  storms,  The    lof  -  ty 


chils     rise,      Far         in       their   shade     my    Peg  -  gy's  charms    First 

N  r>     |s 


blest    my     wonder  -  ing    eyes  ; 


As        one         who          by      Eome 


fe 


sav  -  age  stream  A        lone   -  ly       gem       sur  -  veys,       A  -  ston  -  ish'd 


doub  -  ly,    marks    it       beam  With       art's    most    pol  -  ish'd    blaze. 

WHERE,  braving  angry  winter's  storms, 

The  lofty  Ochils  rise, 
Far  in  their  shade  my  Peggy's  charms 

First  blest  my  wondering  eyes ; 
As  one  who  by  some  savage  stream 

A  lonely  gem  surveys, 
Astonish'd  doubly,  marks  it  beam 

With  art's  most  polish'd  blaze. 

Blest  be  the  wild  sequester'd  shade, 

And  blest  the  day  and  hour, 
Where  Peggy's  charms  I  first  survey'd, 

When  first  I  felt  their  pow'r! 
The  tyrant  Death  with  grim  control 

May  seize  my  fleeting  breath  ; 
But  tearing  Peggy  from  my  soul 

Must  be  a  stronger  death. 


28 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  29.    My  Peggy  s  face,  my  Peggy  s  form. 

Tune  :  My  Peggy"  s  face.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  501. 

Slowly 

d 
H 


My     Peg -gy's  face,  ray        Peg  -gy's  form  The    frost     of    her  -  mit 


age  might  warm,    My        Peg  -  gy's  worth,  my        Peg  -  gy's  mind  Might 


charm  the     first        of  hu-man   kind.         I        love   my      Peg  -  gy's 


an  -  gel  air,     Her       face    so    tru  -  ly    heaven- ly    fair,  Her     na  -  live 


grace     so         void     of    art ;   But        I      a   -    dore    my       Peg-gy's  heart. 

MY  Peggy's  face,  my  Peggy's  form 
The  frost  of  hermit  age  might  warm  ; 
My  Peggy's  worth,  my  Peggy's  mind 
Might  charm  the  first  of  human  kind. 
I  love  my  Peggy's  angel  air, 
Her  face  so  truly  heavenly  fair, 
Her  native  grace  so  void  of  art ; 
But  I  adore  my  Peggy's  heart. 

The  lily's  hue,  the  rose's  dye, 
The  kindling  lustre  of  an  eye — 
Who  but  owns  their  magic  sway  ? 
Who  but  knows  they  all  decay  ? 
The  tender  thrill,  the  pitying  tear, 
The  generous  purpose  nobly  dear, 
The  gentle  look  that  rage  disarms — 
These  are  all  immortal  charms. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


29 


No.  30.    By  O  ughtcr  tyre  grows  the  aik. 


Tune:  Andro  and  his  cutty  gun. 

Cheerily 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  180. 


CHORUS.  Blythe,  blythe  and  mer-ry     was  she,      Blythe  was    she     but    and  ben; 

Fine. 


Blythe    by       the    banks    of  Earn,    And  blythe    in       Glen  -  tu  -  rit    glen! 


By    Ough-ter  -  tyre       grows  the  aik,  On  Yarrow  banks  the     bir  -  ken  shaw ; 

D.C. 


But    Phe-mie  was      a     bon  -  ier  lass  Than  braes  o'    Yar-row     ev-er     saw. 


CHORUS.     Blythe,  Blythe  and  merry  was  si 

Blythe  was  she  but  and  ben ; 
Blythe  by  the  banks  of  Earn, 
And  blythe  in  Glenturit  glen  I 

BY  Oughtertyre  grows  the  aik, 

On  Yarrow  banks  the  birkeri  shaw  ; 

But  Phemie  was  a  bonier  lass 
Than  braes  o'  Yarrow  ever  saw. 

Her  looks  were  like  a  flow'r  in  May, 
Her  smile  was  like  a  simmer  morn : 

She  tripped  by  the  banks  o'  Earn 
As  light's  a  bird  upon  a  thorn. 

Her  bonie  face  it  was  as  meek 

As  ony  lamb  upon  a  lea  : 
The  evening  sun  was  ne'er  sae  sweet 

As  was  the  blink  o'  Phemie's  e'e. 

The  Highland  hills  I've  wander'd  wide, 
As  o'er  the  Lawlands  I  hae  been, 

But  Phemie  was  the  blithest  lass 
That  ever  trode  the  dewy  green. 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  31.   A  rosebud,  by  my  early  walk. 

Tune:  A  rosebud.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  189. 


Slow 


A      rose  -  bud,  by     my   ear   -  ly      walk    A  -  down    a     corn  -  in  - 


clos  -  ed     bawk,    Sae         gent  -  ly     bent     its    thor  -  ny    stalk,     All 


on          a         dew     •     y      morn  -  ing.         Ere      twice    the    shades 


dawn    are  fled,      In         a'        its        crim   -   son      glo  -  ry  spread,  And 


droop  -  ing  rich    the    dew  -  y   head,  It   scents  the       ear     .    ly    morn  -  ing. 

A  ROSEBUD,  by  my  early  walk 
Adown  a  corn-inclosed  bawk, 
Sae  gently  bent  its  thorny  stalk, 

All  on  a  dewy  morning. 
Ere  twice  the  shades  o'  dawn  are  fled, 
In  a1  its  crimson  glory  spread, 
And  drooping  rich  the  dewy  head, 

It  scents  the  early  morning. 

Within  the  bush,  her  covert  nest 

A  little  linnet  fondly  prest, 

The  dew  sat  chilly  on  her  breast, 

Sae  early  in  the  morning. 
She  soon  shall  see  her  tender  brood, 
The  pride,  the  pleasure  o'  the  wood, 
Amang  the  fresh  green  leaves  bedew'd, 

Awake  the  early  morning. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


So  thou,  dear  bird,  young  Jeany  fair, 
On  trembling  string  or  vocal  air 
Shall  sweetly  pay  the  tender  care 

That  tents  thy  early  morning! 
So  thou,  sweet  Rosebud,  young  and  gay, 
Shalt  beauteous  blaze  upon  the  day, 
And  bless  the  parent's  evening  ray 

That  watch'd  thy  early  morning. 


No.  32.   Musing  on  the  roaring  ocean. 


Tune  :  Druimionn  dubh. 

Slow 


McDonald's  Highland  Airs,  1784,  No.  89. 


Mus     -     ing 


the 


Which  di 


vides  my         love        and 


me, 


Weary    -    ing  Heav'n        in 


33 


For  his 


veal    wher  -  e'er         he          be. 


MUSING  on  the  roaring  ocean, 
Which  divides  my  love  and  me, 

Wearying  Heav'n  in  warm  devotion 
For  his  weal  where'er  he  be. 

Hope  and  fear's  alternate  billow 
Yielding  late  to  Nature's  law, 

Whisp'ring  spirits  round  my  pillow, 
Talk  of  him  that 's  far  awa. 

Ye  whom  sorrow  never  wounded, 
Ye  who  never  shed  a  tear, 

Care-untroubled,  joy-surrounded, 
Gaudy  Day  to  you  is  dear. 

Gentle  Night,  do  thou  befriend  me ; 

Downy  Sleep,  the  curtain  draw : 
Spirits  kind,  again  attend  me, 

Talk  of  him  that 's  far  awa ! 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  33.  She's  fair  and  fans  e  that  causes  my  smart. 

Tune  :   The  lads  of  Leith.         Cal.  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  p.  31, 

Slowly 


^ 


She 's         fair     and    fause  that      caus  -  es    my  smart ;  I  lo'ed    her 


mei-kle  and         lang ;      She 's     broken  her  vow,  she 's    broken  my  heart,  And 

tr 


I        may    e'en     gae  hang.  A  coof    cam    in        wi' 


routh      o'    gear,  And           I        hae      tint       my         dear  -  est  dear ;   But 
rail. tempo 


wo  -  man     is      but     warld's  gear,  Sae         let     the  bon-ie  lass       gang ! 

SHE'S  fair  and  fause  that  causes  my  smart; 

I  lo'ed  her  meikle  and  lang; 
She 's  broken  her  vow,  she 's  broken  my  heart, 

And  I  may  e'en  gae  hang. 
A  coof  cam  in  wi'  routh  o'  gear, 
And  I  hae  tint  my  dearest  dear; 
But  Woman  is  but  warld's  gear, 

Sae  let  the  bonie  lass  gang! 

Whae'er  ye  be  that  woman  love, 

To  this  be  never  blind ; 
Nae  ferlie  'tis  tho'  fickle  she  prove, 

A  Woman  has't  by  kind. 
O  Woman  lovely,  Woman  fair, 
An  angel  form  's  faun  to  thy  share, 
'Twad  been  o'er  meikle  to  gien  thee  mair! — 

I  mean  an  angel  mind. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


33 


No.  34.    Now  Spring  has  clad  the  grove  in  green, 

(Tune  unknown.) 

Now  Spring  has  clad  the  grove  in  green, 

And  strew'd  the  lea  wi'  flowers ; 
The  furrow'd,  waving  corn  is  seen 

Rejoice  in  fostering  showers;     . 
While  ilka  thing  in  Nature  join 

Their  sorrows  to  forego, 
O,  why  thus  all  alone  are  mine 

The  weary  steps  o'  woe! 

The  trout  within  yon  wimpling  burn 

That  glides,  a  silver  dart, 
And,  safe  beneath  the  shady  thorn, 

Defies  the  angler's  art — 
My  life  was  ance  that  careless  stream, 

That  wanton  trout  was  I, 
But  love  wi'  unrelenting  beam 

Has  scorch'd  my  fountains  dry. 

The  little  floweret's  peaceful  lot, 

In  yonder  cliff  that  grows, 
Which,  save  the  linnet's  flight,  I  wot, 

Nae  ruder  visit  knows, 
Was  mine,  till  love  has  o'er  me  past, 

And  blighted  a'  my  bloom  ; 
And  now  beneath  the  withering  blast 

My  youth  and  joy  consume. 

The  waken'd  laverock  warbling  springs, 

And  climbs  the  early  sky, 
Winnowing  blythe  his  dewy  wings 

In  morning's  rosy  eye ; 
As  little  reck't  I  sorrow's  power 

Until  the  flowery  snare 
O'  witching  love  in  luckless  hour 

Made  me  the  thrall  o'  care ! 

O,  had  my  fate  been  Greenland  snows 

Or  Afric's  burning  zone, 
Wi'  man  and  Nature  leagu'd  my  foes, 

So  Peggy  ne'er  I'd  known! 
The  wretch  whase  doom  is,  '  Hope  nae  mair,' 

What  tongue  his  woes  can  tell, 
Within  whase  bosom,  save  despair, 

Nae  kinder  spirits  dwell. 

D 


34 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  35.   O,  wilt  thou  go  wi  me,  sweet  Tibbie  Dunbar* 

Tune:  Johnny  McGill.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  207. 
Briskly 


O,       wilt     thou      go        wi'       me,    sweet  Tib  -   bie     Dun  -  bar? 


1 • ^ ^ 1 1 1 


O,        wilt     thou     go         wi'      me,     sweet       Tib   -   bie      Dun  -  bar? 


Wilt  thou     ride       on       a     horse,     or       be     drawn     in          a        car, 


Or  walk       by     my    side,      O    sweet       Tib  -  bie       Dun -bar? 


I  care       na     thy    dad  -  die,    his        lands    and     his        mon  -  ey 


I  care       na      thy         kin,          sae        high    and      sae      lord 


But       say       that  thou'lt  hae      me       for         bet    -    ter         or      waur, 


— N 


And        come    in      thy     coa  -  tie,      sweet         Tib  -  bie       Dun  -  bar. 

O,  WILT  thou  go  wi'  me,  sweet  Tibbie  Dunbar? 
O,  wilt  thou  go  wi'  me,  sweet  Tibbie  Dunbar? 
Wilt  thou  ride  on  a  horse,  or  be  drawn  in  a  car, 
Or  walk  by  my  side,   O  sweet  Tibbie  Dunbar? 

'  I  care  na  thy  daddie,  his  lands  and  his  money ; 
I  care  na  thy  kin,  sae  high  and  sae  lordly: 
But  say  that  thou'lt  hae  me  for  better  or  waur, 
And  come  in  thy  coatie,  sweet  Tibbie  Dunbar. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


35 


No.  36.    Fate  gave  the  word — the  arrow  sped. 

Tune :  Finlayston  house. 
Slow 


Tune:  Finlayston  house.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  271. 

Slow 

, 1 tar K= 1 

=J=^ 


Fate         gave         the       word       —       the 


ar        -        row 


.^1:^^^^^^^=]=^^=: 


sped,    And      prerc'd    my        dar    -    ling's         heart;.         And       with       him 


all  the  joys  are          fled  Life  can       to 


me        im      -      part. 
tr 


By  cru    -    el          hands          the 


sap 


ling      drops, 


In 


dust 


dis 


hon      -      our'd 


age  s 


FATE  gave  the  word — the  arrow  sped, 

And  pierc'd  my  darling's  heart ; 
And  with  him  all  the  joys  are  fled 

Life  can  to  me  impart. 
By  cruel  hands  the  sapling  drops, 

In  dust  dishonour'd  laid: 
So  fell  the  pride  of  all  my  hopes, 

My  age's  future  shade. 


fu 


shade. 


The  mother-linnet  in  the  brake 

Bewails  her  ravish'd  young; 
So  I  for  my  lost  darling's  sake 

Lament  the  live-day  long. 
Death,  oft  I've  fear'd  thy  fatal  blow, 

Now  fond  I  bare  my  breast ! 
O,  do  thou  kindly  lay  me  low 

With  him  I  love  at  rest ! 


D  2 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  37.    The  day  returns,  my  bosom  burns. 

Tune:  Seventh  of  November.         Scots  Musical  Museum.  1790,  No.  224. 
Notfast 

t* 


The        day     re  -  turns,     my        bo  -  som  burns,  The         bliss  -  ful 


day        we         twa    did  meet ;  Tho'       win  -  ter     wild     in        tern  -  pest 


^^SHH 

3;*-1-* — Ud^>  4^  '4.    J— j 


toil'd,     Ne'er         sum    •   mer      sun        was        half     sae    sweet.       Than 


a'        the      pride       that         loads    the     tide,       And  cross    -    es 


o'er       the  sul  -  try     line,    Than    king  -  ly    robes,  than    crowns  and 


globes,  Heav'n         gave  me        more   —    it  made     thee     mine! 

THE  day  returns,  my  bosom  burns, 

The  blissful  day  we  twa  did  meet ; 
Tho'  winter  wild  in  tempest  toil'd, 

Ne'er  summer  sun  was  half  sae  sweet. 
Than  a'  the  pride  that  loads  the  tide, 

And  crosses  o'er  the  sultry  line, 
•    Than  kingly  robes,  than  crowns  and  globes, 

Heav'n  gave  me  more — it  made  thee  mine  ! 

While  day  and  night  can  bring  delight, 

Or  Nature  aught  of  pleasure  give ; 
While  joys  above  my  mind  can  move, 

For  thee,  and  thee  alone,  I  live! 
When  that  grim  foe  of  life  below 

Comes  in  between  to  make  us  part, 
The  iron  hand  that  breaks  our  band, 

It  breaks  my  bliss,  it  breaks  my  heart ! 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


37 


No.  38.    Ye  gallants  bright,  I  rede  you  right. 

Tune:  Bonie  Ann.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  215. 

Slowly 


Ye  gal  -  lants  bright,         I  rede        you  right,        Be  - 


hon 


Ann ;  Her  come     -    ly 

tr 


face        sae          fu'          o'     grace,  Your    heart      she     will    tre   -    pan : 

P^TZ 


Her        een        sae    bright    like      stars       by    night,  Her        skin        is 


like  the  swan  ;  Sae  jim     -     ply         lac'd        her 


gen    -     ty      waist,    That         sweet    -    ly         ye      might 

YE  gallants  bright,  I  rede  you  right, 

Beware  o'  bonie  Ann  ; 
Her  comely  face  sae  fu'  o'  grace, 

Your  heart  she  will  trepan  : 
Her  een  sae  bright  like  stars  by  night, 

Her  skin  is  like  the  swan  ; 
Sae  jimply  lac'd  her  genty  waist, 

That  sweetly  ye  might  span. 

Youth,  Grace,  and  Love  attendant  move, 

And  Pleasure  leads  the  van  : 
In  a'  their  charms,  and  conquering  arms, 

They  wait  on  bonie  Ann. 
The  captive  bands  may  chain  the  hands, 

But  love  enslaves  the  man  : 
Ye  gallants  braw,  I  rede  you  a', 

Beware  o'  bonie  Ann ! 


span. 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  39.    /  gaed  a  waef^l  gate  yestreen. 

Tune  :  The  blue  ey' d  lassie.         Scots  Musical.  Museum,  1790,  No.  294. 
Moderate  time 


I  gaed  a       wae  -  fu1  gate  yes  -  treen,       A 


:-*£ 


i 


3 


1 


gate  I  fear  I'll  dear    -    ly        rue ;  I 


i. 


gat  my      death  frae       twa         sweet    een,        Twa     love    -    ly 

^ 


een  o'         bon  -  ie      blue!     'Twas        not          her         gold      -      ei 


ring    -    lets      bright,        Her  lips  like  ros       -        es 


wat  wi'  •     dew,       Her      heav   -    ing        bo    -    som 


ly- 


white    —    It        was      her         een  sae  bon     -      ie         blue. 

I  GAED  a  waefu'  gate  yestreen, 

A  gate  I  fear  I'll  dearly  rue  ; 
I  gat  my  death  frae  twa  sweet  een, 

Twa  lovely  een  o*  bonie  blue ! 
'Twas  not  her  golden  ringlets  bright, 

Her  lips  like  roses  wat  wi'  dew, 
Her  heaving  bosom  lily-white — 

It  was  her  een  sae  bonie  blue. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


39 


She  talk'd,  she  smil'd,  my  heart  she  wyl'd, 

She  charm'd  my  soul  I  wist  na  how; 
And  aye  the  stound,  the  deadly  wound, 

Cam  frae  her  een  sae  bonie  blue. 
But  'spare  to  speak,  and  spare  to  speed* — 

She'll  aiblins  listen  to  my  vow  : 
Should  she  refuse,   I'll  lay  my  dead 

To  her  twa  een  sae  bonie  blue. 


No.  40.    Blythe  hae  I  been  on  yon  hill.. 

Tune  :  The  Quaker's  Wife.         Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  p.  53. 
Slow 


fore        me,  Care  -  less    il    -    ka    thought,  and      free  As      the 


* 


i£^i 


&  T3r~jr 

breeze    flew       o'er         me  : 


Q:k._-r^n_L,^ .filZgfj 

3p=^I^=E*_-p=J= 

_=^_i_i<i_ji=     __^. 


Now    nae     Ian    -    ger      sport     and 
tr 


play,          Mirth        or      sang       can    please      me ; 


Les  -  ley 


sae      fair     and  coy, 


BLYTHE  hae  I  been  on  yon  hill 

As  the  lambs  before  me, 
Careless  ilka  thought,  and  free 

As  the  breeze  flew  o'er  me  ; 
Now  nae  langer  sport  and  play, 

Mirth  or  sang  can  please  me; 
Lesley  is  sae  fair  and  coy, 

Care  and  anguish  seize  me. 


Care   and    an  -  guish    seize        me. 


Heavy,  heavy  is  the  task, 

Hopeless  love  declaring  ; 
Trembling,  I  dow  nocht  but  glow'r, 

Sighing,  dumb  despairing  ! 
If  she  winna  ease  the  thraws 

In  my  bosom  swelling, 
Underneath  the  grass-green  sod 

Soon  maun  be  my  dwelling. 


4o 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  41.    Yestreen  I  had  a  pint  o   wine. 

Tune:  Banks  of  Banna.         Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  p.  75. 


Merrily 


Yes   -   treen       I      had 


pint  o'         wine,        A 


^ 


place  where  bo    -    dy 


saw      na ;        Yes  -  treen  lay        on          this 


breast  o'  mine        The  gow     -    den  locks  of 

tr 


An   -    na.  The      hun  -  gry  Jew       in        wil    -  der   -  ness  Re 


joicing    o'er     his  man  -  na  Was     naething      to         my          hi   -  ney 


bliss         Up 


Up        -        on  the  lips  of  An  -  na. 


YESTREEN  I  had  a  pint  o'  wine, 

A  place  where  body  saw  na ; 
Yestreen    lay    on    this    breast    o1 
mine 

The  gowden  locks  of  Anna. 
The  hungry  Jew  in  wilderness 

Rejoicing  o'er  his  manna 
Was  naething  to  my  hiney  bliss 

Upon  the  lips  of  Anna. 

Ye    monarchs    take    the    east    and 
west 

Frae  Indus  to  Savannah  ; 
Gie  me  within  my  straining  grasp 

The  melting  form  of  Anna : 
There  I'll  despise  imperial  charms, 

An  Empress  or  Sultana, 
While  dying  raptures  in  her  arms 

I  give  and  take  wi'  Anna ! 


Awa,  thou  flaunting  god  of  day ! 

Awa,  thou  pale  Diana ! 
Ilk  star,  gae  hide  thy  twinkling  ray, 

When  I'm  to  meet  my  Anna ! 
Come,  in  thy  raven  plumage,  Night ! 

(Sun,  moon,  and  stars,  withdrawn 

a'), 

And  bring  an  angel-pen  to  write 
My  transports  with  my  Anna ! 

POSTSCRIPT. 
The  kirk  an'  state  may  join,  an'  tell 

To  do  sic  things  I  maunna : 
The  kirk  an'  state  may  gae  to  hell, 

And  I'll  gae  to  my  Anna. 
She  is  the  sunshine  o'  my  e'e 

To  live  but  her  I  canna : 
Had  I  on  earth  but  wishes  three, 

The  first  should  be  my  Anna. 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


No.  42.    Wishfully  I  look  and  l&nguish, 

Tune:  Bonie  wee  thing.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  341. 

..  Slowly  ^ 


CHORUS.         Bon     •     ie        wee    thing^     Can     •     nie       -wee  thing,    Love  -   ly 


tr#  -  1~%       pn  -  ps^  —         T=-*—^       ^^^—ipiS— 

wee     thing)    wert      thou       mine,          I  -wad  wear       thee 

—  gsst—  -^  —  ^=£        c^  ---  q  —  *^B_    irg_^._*_ 

#  tine. 

+        ^i 


in         my        bos    -    om        Lest        my       jew   -   el      it    should  tine. 


Wish    -    ful    -    ly  I  look  and 


Ian    -    guish 


stounds     w 


guish,      Lest       my         wee    thing  be 


na        mne. 


CHORUS.     Bonie  wee  thing,  cannie  wee  thing. 

Lovely  wee  thing,  wert  thou,  mine, 
I  wad  wear  thee  in  my  bosom 
Lest  my  jewel  it  should  tine. 

WISHFULLY  I  look  and  languish 

In  that  bonie  face  o'  thine, 
And  my  heart  it  stounds  wi'  anguish, 

Lest  my  wee  thing  be  na  mine. 

Wit  and  Grace  and  Love  and  Beauty 

In  ae  constellation  shine  ; 
To  adore  thee  is  my  duty, 

Goddess  o'  this  soul  o'  mine! 


42 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  43.    O,  how  shall  /,  ttnskilfu,  try. 

2,  No,  349. 


Tune  :  Miss  Muir.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No,  349. 
Cheerfully 


O,          how         shall          I,  un    -    skil    -    fu\      try         The 


po      -      et's  oc     -     cu       -      pa    -    tion?         The         tune     -     fu' 


powers,      in          hap    -    py    hours      That  \vhis  -  per  in    -    spi    - 


ra    -    tion;        Even          they  maun  dare      an  ef  •  fort    mair     Than 


aught  they       ev     -     er         gave       us,         Ere       they        re  -  hearse       in 


-"g          T5a. 


e     -     f(\ial    verse        The      charms    o1          love     -     ly  Da  -  vies. 


Each      eye,         it     cheers,    when        she        ap  -  pears,        Like    Phoe  -  bus 


in         the  morn  -  ing,    When      past        the  shower,  and    eve   -   ry 


flower    The     gar    -    den        is 


dorn    -   ing!          As        the 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


43 


wretch         looks        o'er 


Si 


be 


ria's  shore,         When 


win   -   ter  -  bound     the  wave     is,          Sae     droops  our  heart    when 


we        maun  part        Frae    charm  -  ing,        love      -      ly 

O,  HOW  shall  I,  unskilfu'  try 

The  poet's  occupation? 
The  tunefu'  powers,  in  happy  hours 

That  whisper  inspiration  ; 
Even  they  maun  dare  an  effort  mair 

Than  aught  they  ever  gave  us, 
Ere  they  rehearse  in  equal  verse 

The  charms  o'  lovely  Davies. 
Each  eye,  it  cheers,  when  she  appears, 

Like  Phoebus  in  the  morning, 
When  past  the  shower,  and  every  flower 

The  garden  is  adorning! 
As  the  wretch  looks  o'er  Siberia's  shore, 

When  winter-  bound  the  wave  is, 
Sae  droops  our  heart  when  we  maun  part 

Frae  charming,  lovely  Davies. 

Her  smile  's  a  gift  frae  'boon  the  lift, 

That  maks  us  mair  than  princes  ; 
A  sceptred  hand,  a  king's  command, 

Is  in  her  darting  glances  : 
The  man  in  arms  'gainst  female  charms, 

Even  he  her  willing  slave  is  : 
He  hugs  his  chain,  and  owns  the  reign 

Of  conquering  lovely  Davies. 
My  Muse  to  dream  of  such  a  theme 

Her  feeble  powers  surrenders  ; 
The  eagle's  gaze  alone  surveys 

The  sun's  meridian  splendours  : 
I  wad  in  vain  essay  the  strain  : 

The  deed  too  daring  brave  is  ! 
I'll  drap  the  lyre,  and,  mute,  admire 

The  charms  o'  lovely  Davies, 


Da  -  vies. 


44 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  44.    O,  saw  ye  bonie  Lesley  ? 

Tune  !   The  Collier  s  bon:e  lassie.         Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  No.  33. 
Merrily 


O,  saw         ye        bon  -  ie      Les  -  ley,    As       she  gaed  o'er  the 

— g — N —  — =^ — I — -^ — &      .    "isrr~  — r— i 

:s -F=* — M— p-^-*— ~  izJ_J ^\       fs^=^:r~^     iz~zzz£q 

— ^ —  — t— K) —        -^g *r-*—d — i^hri —  -- N— ^ — 


Bor  -  der?  She's  gane          like         A  -  lex    -    an    -    der,      To 


spread      her          con    -    quests         far  -  ther!  To        see    her        is      to 


love    her,    and  love     but        her     for      ev  -  er ;         For       Na    -   ture 


made  her      what     she       is,    And        nev     -     er      made    a    -    ni  -  ther ! 

O,  SAW  ye  bonie  Lesley, 

As  she  gaed  o'er  the  Border? 
She's  gane,  like  Alexander, 

To  spread  her  conquests  farther! 
To  see  her  is  to  love  her, 

And  love  but  her  for  ever; 
For  Nature  made  her  what  she  is, 

And  never  made  anither ! 

That  art  a  queen,  fair  Lesley — 

Thy  subjects,  we  before  thee : 
Thou  art  divine,  fair  Lesley — 

The  hearts  o'  men  adore  thee. 
The  deil  he  couldna  skaith  thee, 

Or  aught  that  wad  belang  thee  ; 
He'd  look  into  thy  bonie  face, 

And  say : — '  I  canna  wrang  thee  ! ' 


I.     LOVE!    PERSONAL 


45 


The  Powers  aboon  will  tent  thee, 

Misfortune  sha'  na  steer  thee: 
Thou'rt  like  themsel',  sae  lovely, 

That  ill  they'll  ne'er  let  near  thee. 
Return  again,  fair  Lesley, 

Return  to  Caledonie  ! 
That  we  may  brag  we  hae  a  lass 

There 's  nane  again  sae  bonie. 


No.  45.    While  larks  with  little  wing. 

Tune  :  Aileen  a  roon.         Cat.  Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  p.  2r. 

Slow 


While  larks  with     lit   -    tie          wing       Fann'd  the        pure 
tr 


View    -    ing       the    breath  -  ing       spring,       Forth    I         did          fare : 


Gay,      the      sun's        gol-den   eye     Peep'd     o'er      the      mountains  high 
tr 

-N: 


t==±=±=I 

±=j=g — ^ 


'Such    thy  bloom'     did         I          cry—         'Phil  -  lis        the  fair.' 


WHILE  larks  with  little  wing 

Fann'd  the  pure  air, 
Viewing  the  breathing  spring, 

Forth  I  did  fare  : 
Gay,  the  sun's  golden  eye 
Peep'd  o'er  the  mountains  high  ; 
'  Such  thy  bloom,'  did  I  cry — 

'Phillis  the  fair.' 

In  each  bird's  careless  song, 

Glad,   I  did  share  ; 
While  yon  wild-flowers  among, 

Chance  led  me  there  : 


Sweet  to  the  op'ning  day, 
Rosebuds  bent  the  dewy  spray ; 
*  Such  thy  bloom,'  did  I  say — 
'Phillis  the  fair.' 

Down  in  a  shady  walk 

Doves  cooing  were  ; 
I  mark'd  the  cruel  hawk 

Caught  in  a  snare : 
So  kind  may  Fortune  be, 
Such  make  his  destiny, 
He  who  would  injure  thee, 

Phillis  the  fair. 


TONE-POETRY   OF   ROBERT    BURNS 


[o.  46.   Farewell)  thou  stream  that  winding  flows. 

Tune  :  Alaceyat  I  came  owr  the  moor.         Skene  MS.,  c.  1630. 
Slow 

Q.  —              —  .  ,  =^  PSB,-  1  ,  . 

t  *          1             1             1 

—  ir>~r~T~F~i~  -J  —  — 

)                   III             1 

*-.  *    *     •  j 

1                         !     L  -           •-  —                       '* 

Fare  -  well,      thou     stream      that            wind     -     ing      flows         A 

9.  1  js  —  pf^j  —  T^H  ,  —  i  ,  

—  d—    1    J     ^~  « 

1*        M       !•                _—i          "i 

r\       *   •     *      m  P       .  • 

r^          r                          r*n 

1               r            i    J     » 

round        E     -     li     -      za's 
Q  -p--  ^=  r  —  -^ 

dwel    -    ling!            O            mem    -    'ry, 

—  —  1  —  |  p^  |=^j  — 

L  -^  —  J  —  0  —  f 

—  *—  ^  *  H  «'  —  J  J^*  

spare          the                cru 

Lj  h~ 

el          throes     With     -     in               my 

k  —  ^—  *  —  r—  j*  —  r^  — 

_p  *>—*.  —  j*  ^  _j_^_^C_.j*  — 

ho     -    som            swel    - 

0  1  1  STT" 

ling:             Con    -    demn'd     to      drag          a 

=1""  '  i  1  1  \  :  1 

£=f—  3—  ^=^- 

^L_                                                                   :  0  —  i  -^  1  ^  • 
hope  -less    chain        And       yet       in        se   -    cret          Ian     -     guish,         To 

4-  —          -m  

_        ,. 

)  ^-i—  k—  «  —    jr~"^'  " 

^       ^       J 

feel      a   fire      in       ev  -  ery    vein,  Nor     dare   dis  •  close  my        an  •  guish ! 

FAREWELL,  thou  stream  that  winding  flows 
Around  Eliza's  dwelling ! 

0  mem'ry,  spare  the  cruel  throes' 
Within  my  bosom  swelling  : 

Condemn'd  to  drag  a  hopeless  chain 

And.  yet  in  secret  languish, 
To  feel  a  fire  in  every  vein, 

Nor  dare  disclose  my  anguish ! 

Love's  veriest  wretch,  unseen,  unknown, 

I  fain  my  griefs  would  cover : 
The  bursting  sigh,  th'  unweeting  groan 

Betray  the  hapless  lover. 

1  know  thou  doom'st  me  to  despair, 
Nor  wilt,  nor  canst  relieve  me  ; 

But,  O  Eliza,  hear  one  prayer — 
For  pity's  sake  forgive  me ! 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


47 


The  music  of  thy  voice  I  heard, 

Nor  wist  while  it  enslav'd  me  ; 
I  saw  thine  eyes,  yet  nothing  fear'd, 

Till  fears  no  more  had  saved  me  : 
The  unwary  sailor  thus,  aghast, 

The  wheeling  torrent  viewing, 
'Mid  circling  horrors  sinks  at  last 

In  overwhelming  ruin. 


No.  47.   A  slave  to  loves  unbounded  sway. 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  574. 


Tune  :  The  Cordwainers  march. 

.Slow 


in      mine,     lass,       In      mine,      lass,       in 


, --' -ym \-^ • \- 


mine,  lass,    And    swear      on    thy      -white  hand,  lass,     That     thou     -wilt 
Fine. 


my    dead    -    ly 


fae,        Un      -      less         thou   be          my    ain. 

CHORUS.  O,  lay  thy  loof  in  mine,  lass, 
In  mine,  lass,  in  mine,  lass, 
And  swear  on  thy  white  hand,  lass, 

That  thou  wilt  be  my  ain. 
A  SLAVE  to  love's  unbounded  sway, 
He  aft  has  wrought  me  meikle  wae  ; 
But  now  he  is  my  deadly  fae, 
Unless  thou  be  my  ain. 

There's  monie  a  lass  has  broke  my  rest, 
That  for  a  blink  I  hae  lo'ed  best ; 
But  thou  art  queen  within  my  breast, 
For  ever  to  remain. 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  48.    Turn  again,  thou  fair  Eliza  ! 

Tune:  A  Gaelic  air.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  368. 
Slow 


Turn        a   -   gain,      tliou        fair       E      -      li 


za!        Ae    kind 


blink         be    -    fore     we       part ;       Rue      on       thy          des  -  pair  -  ing 


lov      -      er  —     Canst     thou         break  his         faith  -  fu'        heart  ? 


Turn       a      -    gain,     thou       fair        E       -       li      -       za !  If         to 


m 


-. 9- 


t- 

love  thy       heart    de    -    nies  For  pi  -  ty        hide     the 


cru    -    el  sen    -    tence   Un  -  der         friend  -  ship's  kind  dis    -    guise. 

TURN  again,  thou  fair  Eliza! 

Ae  kind  blink  before  we  part ; 
Rue  on  thy  despairing  lover — 

Canst  thou  break  his  faithfu'  heart  ? 
Turn  again,  thou  fair  Eliza! 

If  to  love  thy  heart  denies, 
For  pity  hide  the  cruel  sentence 

Under  friendship's  kind  disguise ! 

Thee,  dear  maid,  hae  I  offended? 

The  offence  is  loving  thee  : 
Canst  thou  wreck  his  peace  for  ever, 

Wha  for  thine  wad  gladly  die? 


:    PERSONAL 


49 


While  the  life  beats  in  my  bosom, 
Thou  shalt  mix  in  ilka  throe : 

Turn  again,  thou  lovely  maiden, 
Ae  sweet  smile  on  me  bestow ! 

Not  the  bee  upon  the  blossom, 

In  the  pride  o'  sinny  noon  ; 
Not  the  little  sporting  fairy 

All  beneath  the  simmer  moon, 
Not  the  poet,  in  the  moment 

Fancy  lightens  in  his  e'e, 
Kens  the  pleasure,  feels  the  rapture, 

That  thy  presence  gies  to  me. 


No.  49.    There  was  a  lass,  and  she  was  fair. 

To  its  am  tune.         (Unknown.) 

THERE  was  a  lass,  and  she  was  fair, 

At  kirk  and  market  to  be  seen 
When  a*  our  fairest  maids  were  met, 

The  fairest  maid  was  bonie  Jean. 

And  ay  she  wrought  her  country  wark, 

And  ay  she  sang  sae  merrilie  ; 
The  blythest  bird  upon  the  bush 

Had  ne'er  a  lighter  heart  than  she  ! 

But  hawks  will  rob  the  tender  joys, 
That  bless  the  little  lintwhite's  nest, 

And  frost  will  blight  the  fairest  flowers, 
And  love  will  break  the  soundest  rest. 

Young  Robie  was  the  brawest  lad, 
The  flower  and  pride  of  a'  the  glen, 

And  he  had  owsen,  sheep,  and  kye, 
And  wanton  naigies  nine  or  ten. 

He  gaed  wi'  Jeanie  to  the  tryste, 
He  danced  wi'  Jeanie  on  the  down, 

And,  lang  ere  witless  Jeanie  wist, 

Her  heart  was  tint,  her  peace  was  stown  ! 

As  in  the  bosom  of  the  stream 

The  moonbeam  dwells  at  dewy  e'en, 

So,  trembling  pure,  was  tender  love 
Within  the  breast  of  bonie  Jean. 


50       TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

And  now  she  works  her  country's  wark, 
And  ay  she  sighs  \vi'  care  and  pain, 

Yet  wist  na  what  her  ail  might  be, 
Or  what  wad  make  her  weel  again. 

But  did  na  Jeanie's  heart  loup  light, 
And  did  na  joy  blink  in  her  e'e, 

As  Robie  tauld  a  tale  o'  love 
Ae  e'enin  on  the  lily  lea? 

The  sun  was  sinking  in  the  west, 
The  birds  sang  sweet  in  ilka  grove  ; 

His  cheek  to  hers  he  fondly  laid, 

And  whisper'd  thus  his  tale  o'  love  : — 

1 0  Jeanie  fair,  I  lo'e  thee  dear — 
O,  canst  thou  think  to  fancy  me? 

Or  wilt  thou  leave  thy  mammie's  cot, 
And  learn  to  tent  the  farms  wi'  me? 

'At  barn  or  byre  thou  shalt  na  drudge, 
Or  naething  else  to  trouble  thee, 

But  stray  amang  the  heather-bells, 
And  tent  the  waving  corn  wi'  me.' 

Now  what  could  artless  Jeanie  do  ? 

She  had  nae  will  to  say  him  na  : 
At  length  she  blush'd  a  sweet  consent, 

And  love  was  ay  between  them  twa. 


No.  50.    O  Philly,  happy  be  that  day. 

Tune  :  The  Sow's  tail  to  Geordie.      McGlashan's  Scots  Measures,  1781,  p.  39. 
Blythly 


' 


O        Phil  -  ly,   hap-py   be  that  day  When,  rov-ing  thro'  the  gath-er'd  hay,  My 
youth  •  fu'  heart  was  stown    a     way,     And         by       thy  charms,  my  Phil  -  ly. 


J.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL  51 

CHORUS.     For  a'  the  joys  that  gowd  can  gie, 
Both.  I  dinna  care  a  single  flie! 

\lad  \     T  .  (lad  \    , 

The    \          \    I  love  '&  the    \  .       \  for-  me, 

(  lass  )  (  lass  )   J 

(  Willy. 

And  that's  my  ain  dear    \  „.  .„ 
(  Phtlly. 

He.     O  PHILLY,  happy  be  that  day 

When,  roving  thro*  the  gather'd  hay, 
My  youthfu'  heart  was  stown  away, 

And  by  thy  charms,  my  Philly. 
She.     O,  Willy,  ay  I  bless  the  grove 

Where  first  I  own'd  my  maiden  love, 
Whilst  thou  did  pledge  the  Powers  above 
To  be  my  ain  dear  Willy. 

He.     As  songsters  of  the  early  year 
Are  ilka  day  mair  sweet  to  hear, 
So  ilka  day  to  me  mair  dear 

And  charming  is  my  Philly. 
She.     As  on  the  brier  the  budding  rose 

Still  richer  breathes,  and  fairer  blows, 
So  in  my  tender  bosom  grows 
The  love  I  bear  my  Willy. 

He.     The  milder  sun  and  bluer  sky, 

That  crown  my  harvest  cares  wi'  joy, 
Were  ne'er  sae  welcome  to  my  eye 

As  is  a  sight  o'  Philly. 
She.     The  little  swallow's  wanton  wing, 

Tho'  wafting  o'er  the  flowery  spring, 
Did  ne'er  to  me  sic  tidings  bring, 
As  meeting  o'  my  Willy. 

He.     The  bee,  that  thro*  the  sunny  hour 
Sips  nectar  in  the  op'ning  flower, 
Compar'd  wi'  my  delight  is  poor 

Upon  the  lips  o'  Philly. 
She.     The  woodbine  in  the  dewy  weet, 

When  ev'ning  shades  in  silence  meet, 
Is  nocht  sae  fragrant  or  sae  sweet 
As  is  a  kiss  o'  Willy. 

:  He.     Let  Fortune's  wheel  at  random  rin, 

And  fools  may  tyne,  and  knaves  may  win  ; 
My  thoughts  are  a'  bound  up  in  ane, 

And  that 's  my  ain  dear  Philly. 
She.     What 's  a'  the  joys  that  gowd  can  gie  ? 
I  dinna  care  a  single  flie ! 
The  lad  I  love's  the  lad  for  me, 
And  that 's  my  ain  dear  Willy. 

£  2 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  51.    A  down  winding  Nith  I  did  wander. 

Tune  :   The  muckin  o'  Geordys  byre.         Orpheus  Caledom'us,  1725,  No.  33. 


K 

—  r*  ^  —  i  —  sr~ 

~r 

s 

fw 

_K 

IV- 



K 

—  p*~ 

x.     d^ 

"3 

c 

_r 

r 

J 

—  N^ 

"r 

—  m  

^ 

A     -     down  wind  -  ing      Nith        I       did         wan  -  der      To 


— 


mark  the  sweet  flowers  as  they  spring ;    A    -    down  winding    Nith      I      did 


-H- 

s     "N 

CHORUS. 

^      I 

^ 

—  *  —  *  — 

-J  —  J—  ^  —  |  — 

hH 

•wan  •  der      Of       Phil   -  lis         to        muse    and       to      sing.  A  - 


wa    wt"     your  belles  and  your      beau  •  ties,      They    nev   -   er       wi" 


^ 


com -pare!  \Vha    •    ev    •    er      hae      met     wt"1     tny 


^ 


/%//  -    tis,      Has      met       zvt"1       the         queen      <?'          the      Fair. 


ADOWN  winding  Nith  I  did  wander 

To  mark  the  sweet  flowers  as  they  spring ; 

Adown  winding  Nith  I  did  wander 
Of  Phillis  to  muse  and  to  sing. 

CHORUS.     Awa  wi"1  your  belles  and  your  beauties- 

They  never  wi    her  can  compare! 
Whaever  hae  met  wC  my  Phillis, 
Has  met  mi'  the  queen  d1  the  Fair. 

The  daisy  amus'd  my  fond  fancy, 

So  artless,  so  simple,  so  wild  ; 
'Thou  emblem,'  said  I,   *o'  my  Phillis' — 

For  she  is  Simplicity's  child. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


53 


The  rosebud's  the  blush  o'  my  charmer, 
Her  sweet  balmy  lip  when  'tis  prest : 

How  fair  and  how  pure  is  the  lily ! 
But  fairer  and  purer  her  breast. 

Yon  knot  of  gay  flowers  in  the  arbour, 
They  ne'er  wi'  my  Phillis  can  vie : 

Her  breath  is  the  breath  of  the  woodbine, 
Its  dew-drop  o'  diamond  her  eye. 

Her  voice  is  the  song  o'  the  morning, 

That  wakes  thro'  the  green-spreading  grove, 

When  Phebus  peeps  over  the  mountains 
On  music,  and  pleasure,  and  love. 

But  beauty,  how  frail  and  how  fleeting ! 

The  bloom  of  a  fine  summer's  day ! 
While  worth  in  the  mind  o'  my  Phillis, 

Will  flourish  without  a  decay. 


No.  52.    Here  is  the  glen,  and  here  the  bower. 

Tune:  Banks  of  Cree.         (Unknown.) 

HERE  is  the  glen,  and  here  the  bower 

All  underneath  the  birchen  shade, 
The  village  bell  has  told  the  hour — 

O,  what  can  stay  my  lovely  maid  ? 
'Tis  not  Maria's  whispering  call — 

'Tis  but  the  balmy  breathing  gale, 
.  Mixt  with  some  warbler's  dying  fall 

The  dewy  star  of  eve  to  hail. 


It  is  Maria's  voice  I  hear ; — 

So  calls  the  woodlark  in  the  grove 
His  little  faithful  mate  to  cheer : 

At  once  'tis  music  and  'tis  love  ! 
And  art  thou  come  ?  and  art  thou  true  ? 

O,  welcome,  dear,  to  love  and  me, 
And  let  us  all  our  vows  renew 

Along  the  flowery  banks  of  Cree, 


54 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  53.    (9,  wert  thou  in  the  cauld  blast. 

Tune:  Lenox  love  to  Blantyre.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  483. 


O,      wert     thou    in         the      cauld    blast     On       yon  -  der    lea,      on 


=E==P=E: 


yon    •    der    lea,        My      plaid    -    ie       to       the     an  -  gry    airt, 


shel   -   ter    thee,      P<J        shel  -  ter    thee;          Or      did       Mis  -  for  -  tune' 


bit    -    ter    storms  A  -  round      thee  blaw,    a  -   round    thee  blaw,      Thy 


bield  should  be    my      bo   -  som,    To    share    it    a',      to    share       it      a'. 

Or  WERT  thou  in  the  cauld  blast 

On  yonder  lea,  on  yonder  lea, 
My  plaidie  to  the  angry  airt, 

I'd  shelter  thee,  I'd  shelter  thee  ; 
Or  did  Misfortune's  bitter  storms 

Around  thee  blaw,  around  thee  blaw, 
Thy  bield  should  be  my  bosom, 

To  share  it  a',  to  share  it  a'. 

Or  were  I  in  the  wildest  waste, 

Sae  black  and  bare,  sae  black  and  bare, 
The  desert  were  a  paradise, 

If  thou  wert  there,  if  thou  wert  there ; 
Or  were  I  monarch  of  the  globe, 

Wi'  thee  to  reign,  wi'  thee  to  reign, 
The  brightest  jewel  in  my  crown 

Wad  be  my  queen,  wad  be  my  queen. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


55 


No.  54.   Ilk  care  and  fear,  when  thou  art  near. 

Tune:  Braes  o1  Balquhidder.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  193. 

Slow 


CHORUS.  And     I'll  kiss  thee   yet,    yet,    And  I'll  kiss  thee  o'er       a  •  gain ; 

Fine. 


And  I'll  kiss  thee    yet,       yet,    My    ban  -  ie     Peg  ~  gy    A  •  li  ~  son. 


Ilk    care  and  fear,  when  thou  art  near,  I    ev  -  er  mair   de  -  fy  them,  O  ; 

D.C. 


Young  kings  upon  their  hansel  throne  Are    no  sae  blest       as       I    am,  O  ! 


CHORUS.    And  I'll  kiss  thee  yet,  yet, 

And  I'll  kiss  thee  o'er  again 
And  I'll  kiss  thee  yet,  yet, 
My  bonie  Peggy  Alison. 

ILK  care  and  fear,  when  thou  art  near, 

I  ever  mair  defy  them,  O  ; 
Young  kings  upon  their  hansel  throne 

Are  no  sae  blest  as  I  am,  O ! 

When  in  my  arms,  wi'  a'  thy  charms, 
I  clasp  my  countless  treasure,  O; 

I  seek  nae  mair  o'  Heav'n  to  share 
Than  sic  a  moment's  pleasure,  O  ! 

And  by  thy  een,  sae  bonie  blue, 
I  swear  I'm  thine  for  ever,  O ! 

And  on  thy  lips  I  seal  my  vow, 
And  break  it  shall  I  never,  O! 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  55     On  Cessnock  banks  a  lassie  dwells. 

Tune:   The  butcher  boy.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  304. 
Slowly  ^  ^ 


On       Cessnock  banks    a    las  -  sie  dwells ;  Could      I  describe       her 


~      r ^s 


shape  and  mien ;  Our  las  -  sies  a'   she    far        ex  -  eels;  An'  she  has    twa 
tr 


sparkling,  rogueish  een ;    She 's  sweet  -  er    than    the      morning  dawn,  When 


ris    -   ing       Phoe  -  bus      first      is  seen;  When  dew  -  drops  twin  -  kle 


o'er         the  lawn;    An'     she      has        twa    sparkling    rogue  -  ish   een. 


\       ^j      ON  Cessnock  banks  a  lassie  dwells  ; 

Could  I  describe  her  shape  and  mien ; 
Our  lasses  a'  she  far  excels ; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

She's  sweeter  than  the  morning  dawn, 
When  rising  Phoebus  first  is  seen  ; 

When  dew-drops  twinkle  o'er  the  lawn ; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

"y  She's  stately  like  yon  youthful  ash, 

That  grows  the  cowslip  braes  between, 
And  drinks  the  stream  with  vigour  fresh  ; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

She's  spotless  like  the  flow'ring  thorn, 

With  flow'rs  so  white  and  leaves  so  green, 

When  purest  in  the  dewy  morn  ; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL  57 

Her  looks  are  like  the  vernal  May, 

When  ev'ning  Phoebus  shines  serene  ; 
While  birds  rejoice  on  every  spray  ; 

An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

Her  hair  is  like  the  curling  mist, 

That  climbs  the  mountain-sides  at  e'en, 
When  flow'r-reviving  rains  are  past ; 

An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

Her  forehead's  like  the  show'ry  bow, 

When  gleaming  sunbeams  intervene, 
And  gild  the  distant  mountain's  brow; 

An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

Her  cheeks  are  like  yon  crimson  gem, 

The  pride  of  all  the  flowery  scene, 
Just  opening  on  its  thorny  stem; 

An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

Her  bosom's  like  the  nightly  snow, 

When  pale  the  morning  rises  keen  ; 
While  hid  the  murmuring  streamlets  flow ; 

An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

v         Her  voice  is  like  the  ev'ning  thrush, 

That  sings  on  Cessnock  banks  unseen  ; 
While  his  mate  sits  nestling  in  the  bush  ; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

V        Her  lips  are  like  yon  cherries  ripe, 

That  sunny  walls  from  Boreas  screen  ; 
They  tempt  the  taste  and  charm  the  sight ; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

Her  teeth  are  like  a  flock  of  sheep, 

With  fleeces  newly  washen  clean : 
That  slowly  mount  the  rising  steep, 

An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

J      Her  breath  is  like  the   fragrant  breeze 
That  gently  stirs  the  blossom'd  bean  ; 
When  Phoebus  sinks  behind  the  seas; 
An'  she  has  twa  sparkling,  rogueish  een. 

J        But  it's  not  her  air,  her  form,  her  face, 
Tho'  matching  beauty's  fabled  queen  ; 
Tis  the  mind  that  shines  in  every  grace, 
An'  chiefly  in  her  rogueish  een. 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  56.    O  Mary,  at  thy  window  be. 

Tune:  Duncan  Davison.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  149. 


Andante 


O,      Ma  -  ry    at    thy  window  be,     It      is    the  wish'd,  the  trysted  hour ! 


Those  smiles  and  glances    let    me    see,  That  make  the  miser's    treasure  poor. 


How  blithely    wad        I      bide  the  stoure,  A     weary  slave  frae  sun    to    sun, 


Could     I      the    rich       re  -  ward  secure — The  love  •  ly  Ma  -  ry  Mor  -  i  -  son. 


O  MARY,  at  thy  window  be, 

It  is  the  wish'd,  the  trysted  hour! 
Those  smiles  and  glances  let  me  see, 

That  make  the  miser's  treasure  poor. 

How  blithely  wad  I  bide  the  stoure, 
A  weary  slave  frae  sun  to  sun, 

Could  I  the  rich  reward  secure — 
The  lovely  Mary  Morison. 

Yestreen,  when  to  the  trembling  string 
The  dance  gaed  thro*  the  lighted  ha', 

To  thee  my  fancy  took  its  wing, 
I  sat,  but  neither  heard  nor  saw  : 
Tho'  this  was  fair,  and  that  was  braw, 

And  yon  the  toast  of  a'  the  town, 
I  sigh'd  and  said  amang  them  a' ; — 

'  Ye  are  na  Mary  Morison  ! ' 

O  Mary,  canst  thou  wreck  his  peace 

Wha  for  thy  sake  wad  gladly  die  ? 
Or  canst  thou  break  that  heart  of  his 

Whase  only  faut  is  loving  thee? 

If  love  for  love  thou  wilt  na  gie, 
At  least  be  pity  to  me  shown  ; 

A  thought  ungentle  canna  be 
The  thought  o'  Mary  Morison. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


59 


No.  57.    Will  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary? 

Tune  :  Ewe-bughts  Marion.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  15. 
Very  slow 


Will  ye     go    to    the    Indies,  my    Ma  -  ry,     And    leave  auld    Sco-tia's 

& 


shore  ?    Will  ye    go    to  the  Indies,  my  Ma    -    ry,      A    -    cross  th'  At- 


Ian  -  tic         roar  ?  O,       sweet   grows  the  lime  and  the      orange, 


^ p_J — 


And  the        ap   -  pie 


the 


pine  ;       But        a' 


the    charms 


o'  the  In    -    dies     Can  nev    -    er  e  -  qual        thine 


WILL  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary, 
And  leave  auld  Scotia's  shore? 

Will  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary, 
Across  th'  Atlantic  roar? 

O,  sweet  grows  the  lime  and  the  orange, 

And  the  apple  on  the  pine; 
But  a'  the  charms  o'  the  Indies 

Can  never  equal  thine. 

I  hae  sworn  by  the  Heavens  to  my  Mary, 
I  hae  sworn  by  the  Heavens  to  be  true, 

And  sae  may  the  Heavens  forget  me, 
When  I  forget  my  vow ! 

O,  plight  me  your  faith,  my  Mary, 
And  plight  me  your  lily-white  hand  j 

O,  plight  me  your  faith,  my  Mary, 
Before  I  leave  Scotia's  strand ! 

We  hae  plighted  our  troth,  my  Mary, 

In  mutual  affection  to  join ; 
And  curst  be  the  cause  that  shall  part  us ! 

The  hour  and  the  moment  o'  time  I 


60 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


I 


No.  58.    Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton. 

Tune  :  Afton  Water.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  386. 
Slew 


Flow  gently,   sweet     Af-ton,      a  -  mong  thy  green  braes,  Flow  gently,       I'll 


sing  thee    a      song     in       thy   praise;  My     Ma-ry's      a  -  sleep  by  thy  mur- 


mur  -  ing    stream,  Flow  gently,  sweet      Af-ton,      dis  -  turb    not       her    dream  ! 


FLOW  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  braes, 
Flow  gently,  I'll  sing  thee  a  song  in  thy  praise  j 
My  Mary's  asleep  by  thy  murmuring  stream, 
Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream ! 

Thou  stock-dove  whose  echo  resounds  thro'  the  glen, 
Ye  wild  whistling  blackbirds  in  yon  thorny  den, 
Thou  green-crested  lapwing,  thy  screaming  forbear, 
I  charge  you,  disturb  not  my  slumbering  fair. 

How  lofty,  sweet  Afton,  thy  neighbouring  hills, 
Far  mark'd  with  the  courses  of  clear,  winding  rills ; 
There  daily  I  wander,  as  noon  rises  high, 
My  flocks  and  my  Mary's  sweet  cot  in  my  eye. 

How  pleasant  thy  banks  and  green  vallies  below, 
Where  wild  in  the  woodlands  the  primroses  blow ; 
There  oft,  as  mild  ev'ning  weeps  over  the  lea, 
The  sweet-scented  birk  shades  my  Mary  and  me. 

The  crystal  stream,  Afton,  how  lovely  it  glides, 

And  winds  by  the  cot  where  my  Mary  resides  ; 

How  wanton  thy  waters  her  snowy  feet  lave, 

As,  gathering  sweet  flow'rets,  she  stems  thy  clear  wave. 

Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  braes, 
Flow  gently,  sweet  river,  the  theme  of  my  lays ; 
My  Mary 's  asleep  by  thy  murmuring  stream, 
Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  disturb  not  her  dream ! 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


6r 


No.  59.    Nae  gentle  dames,  thd  neer  sae  fair. 

Tune  :  McLauchlin's  Scots-measure.       Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  117. 
Slowly 


Nae      gen  -  tie  dames,  tho'    ne'er  sae  fair,  Shall     ev  -  er    be        my        Mu     • 


se's    care:  Their  ti    -  ties        a'          are      emp  -  ty  show — Gie      me          my 
CHORUS. 


0    rf^-isr  ,  II  (•-»- 


•& 

High  -  land  las  -  sie,      O.       With  -  in    the     glen      sae  bush  -  y,       O !      A     - 


boon    the      plain      sae       ra    -    shyt      Of    I 


me     down       wi' 


£ 


fight     gude    will,   To        sing         my        High  -  land    las    -    sie,       Of 


NAE  gentle  dames,  tho'    ne'er    sae 

fair, 

Shall  ever  be  my  Muse's  care  : 
Their  titles  a'  are  empty  show  — 
Gie  me  my  Highland  lassie,  O. 

CHORUS. 

Within  the  glen  sae  bushy,  O  / 
A  boon  the  plain  sae  rashy,  O  ! 
I  set  me  dozvn  wi'  right  gude  will 
To  sing  my  Highland  lassie,  O I 

O,  were  yon  hills  and  vallies  mine, 
Yon  palace  and  37on  gardens  fine, 
The   world    then    the    love    should 

know 
I  bear  my  Highland  lassie,  O. 

But  fickle  Fortune  frowns  on  me, 
And  I  maun  cross  the  raging  sea  ; 
But  while  my  crimson  currents  flow 
I'll  love  my  Highland  lassie,  O. 


Altho'  thro'  foreign  climes  I  range, 
I  know  her  heart  will  never  change  ; 
For  her  bosom  burns  with  honour's 

glow, 
My  faithful  Highland  lassie,  O. 

For  her  Til  dare  the  billows'  roar, 
For  her  I'll  trace  a  distant  shore, 
That  Indian  wealth  may  lustre  throw 
Around  my  Highland  lassie,  O. 

She  has  my  heart,  she  has  my  hand, 
By  secret  troth  and  honor's  band  ! 
'Till  the  mortal  stroke  shall  lay  me 

low, 
I'm  thine,  my  Highland  lassie,  O. 

CHORUS. 

Farewetl  the  glen  sae  bushy,  O  ! 
Fareweel  the  plain  sae  rashy,  O I 
To  other  lands  I  now  must  go 
To  sing  my  Highland  lassie,  O ! 


62 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  60.    Thou  lingering  star  with  lessening  ray. 

Tune  :  Captain  Cook's  death.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  279. 

Slow 


Thou    ling'  -  ring     star    with     less1  -  ning  ray,   That    lov'st     to    greet 


ear    -    ly     morn,    A    -    gain    thou  ush  -  er'st        in      the    day 


My        Ma  -  ry     from      my 


soul      was     torn. 


Ma  - 


ry,     dear      de  -  part  -  ed    shade !  Where  is         thy    place     of 


bliss  _  -    ful         rest  ?    See'st  thou      thy      lov    -    er  low  -  ly 


+J  ~  "^  ^  — ' * 


laid  ?  Hear'st      thou       the         groans        that       rend          his     breast  ? 

THOU  ling'ring  star  with  less'ning  ray, 

That  lov'st  to  greet  the  early  morn, 
Again  thou  usher'st  in  the  day 

My  Mary  from  my  soul  was  torn. 
O  Mary,  dear  departed  shade ! 

Where  is  thy  place  of  blissful  rest  ? 
See'st  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid? 

Hear'st  thou  the  groans  that  rend  his  breast? 

That  sacred  hour  can  I  forget, 

Can  I  forget  the  hallow'd  grove, 
Where,  by  the  winding  Ayr,  we  met 

To  live  one  day  of  parting  love  ? 
Eternity  can  not  efface 

Those  records  dear  of  transports  past, 
Thy  image  at  our  last  embrace : 

Ah  !   little  thought  we  'twas  our  last  ! 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


Ayr,  gurgling,  kiss'd  his  pebbled  shore, 

O'erhung  with  wild  woods  thickening  green  ; 
The  fragrant  birch  and  hawthorn  hoar 

Twin'd  amorous  round  the  raptur'd  scene ; 
The  flowers  sprang  wanton  to  be  prest, 

The  birds  sang  love  on  every  spray; 
Till  too,  too  soon,  the  glowing  west 

Proclaim'd  the  speed  of  winged  day. 

Still  o'er  these  scenes  my  memVy  wakes, 

And  fondly  broods  with  miser  care. 
Time  but  th'  impression  stronger  makes, 

As  streams  their  channels  deeper  wear. 
O  Mary,  dear  departed  shade ! 

Where  is  thy  place  of  blissful  rest  ? 
See'st  thou  thy  lover  lowly  laid? 

Hear'st  thou  the  groans  that  rend  his  breast? 


No.  61.    Ye  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around. 


Tune  :  Lady  Catherine  Ogle. 
Slow 


Apollo's  Banquet,  1686. 

-N 


Ye  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around  The  castle  o'    Mont  -  go-mery,  Green 

1 


be  your  woods  and  fair  your  flowers,  Your  wa-ters  ne-ver  drum  -  lie  :    There  Sim- 

N 


mer      first      un    -    fald    her  robes,  And  there  the  lang  -  est      tar   -   ry; 


For    there  I  took  the    last  fareweel  O'      my  sweet  High-land     Ma-ry. 


YE  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around 

The  castle  o'  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  woods,  and  fair  your  flowers, 

Your  waters  never  drumlie  : 
There  Simmer  first  unfald  her  robes, 

And  there  the  langest  tarry ; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  fareweel 

O'  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 


64 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


How  sweetly  bloom'd  the  gay,  green  birk, 

How  rich  the  hawthorn's  blossom, 
As  underneath  their  fragrant  shade, 

I  clasp'd  her  to  my  bosom ! 
The  golden  hours  on  angel  wings 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie ; 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life 

Was  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

Wi'  monie  a  vow  and  lock'd  embrace 

Our  parting  was  fu'  tender  ; 
And,  pledging  aft  to  meet  again, 

We  tore  oursels  asunder. 
But  O,  fell  Death's  untimely  frost, 

That  nipt  my  flower  sae  early ! 
Now  green 's  the  sod,  and  cauld  's  the  clay, 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary  ! 

O,  pale,  pale  now,  those  rosy  lips 

I  aft  hae  kiss'd  sae  fondly ; 
And  clos'd  for  ay  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwalt  on  me  sae  kindly  ; 
And  mouldering  now  in  silent  dust 

That  heart  that  lo'ed  me  dearly ! 
But  still  within  my  bosom's  core 

Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary. 


No.  62.    Thd  cruel  fate  shoitld  bid  us  part. 

Tune:  She  rose  and  let  me  in.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  14. 

Slowly  tr 


Tho'      cruel  fate  should  bid  us  part  Far   as     the         pole        and      line;     Her 


dear    i-dea  round  my  heart  Should  ten-der  -  ly        en  -  twine.       Tho'    moun- tains 


rise,     and         des  -  erts    howl,  And       o    -    ceans     roar        be-tween;    Yet, 


dear  -  er       than  my          death  -  less  soul,  I    still  would    love       my  Jean. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


THO'  cruel  fate  should  bid  us  part 

Far  as  the  pole  and  line, 
Her  dear  idea  round  rny  heart 

Should  tenderly  entwine. 
Tho'  mountains  rise,  and  deserts  howl, 

And  oceans  roar  between  ; 
Yet  dearer  than  my  deathless  soul 

I  still  would  love  my  Jean. 


No.  63.    Altho   my  back  be  at  the  wa. 

Tune  :  The  job  of  journey  work.         From  Burns's  MS.  (Key  G). 
Brisk 

qs 


Al-tho'  my  back  be    at    the  wa1,  And  tho'  he    be    the     fau-tor,    Al  -  tho' 


my   back    be        at    the  wa',  Yet  here's  his  health  in    wa-ter  !      O,    wae  gae 

tr 


by       his       wan-ton  sides,   Sae  braw-lie's   he    could      flat -ter;     Till    for 

tr 


his    sake    I'm       slighted    sair,  And  dree  the     kin  -  tra      clat  -  ter !   But, 


tho'     my   back    be         at     the   wa',  Yet  here's  his  health  in     wa  -  ter 

ALTHO'  my  back  be  at  the  wa', 

And  tho'  he  be  the  fautor, 
Altho'  my  back  be  at  the  wa', 

Yet  here  's  his  health  in  water  ! 
O,  wae  gae  by  his  wanton  sides, 

Sae  brawlie  's  he  could  flatter ; 
Till  for  his  sake  I'm  slighted  sair 

And  dree  the  kintra  clatter ! 
But,  tho'  my  back  be  at  the  wa', 

Yet  here 's  his  health  in  water ! 


66 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  64.    When  first  I  came  to  Stewart  Kyle. 

Tune :  I  had  a  horse,  and  I  had  nae  mair.     Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1788,  No.  185. 
Moderate  time 


When  first  I  came     to     Stew-art  Kyle  My  mind  it  was  na    steady  ;    Wher- 


e'er    I  gaed,  wlier    -  e'er  I  rade,    A    mistress  still   I    had  ay :          But  when 


I    came     roun'  by  Mauchline  toun,  Not  dreadin     an  -  y     bo  -  dy,         My 


heart  was  caught,    be    -    fore  I  thought,  And    by         a     Mauch-line  la  -  dy. 

WHEN  first  I  came  to  Stewart  Kyle 

My  mind  it  was  na  steady ; 
Where'er  I  gaed,  where'er  I  rade, 

A  mistress  still  I  had  ay  ; 
But  when  I  came  roun'  by  Mauchline  toun, 

Not  dreadin  any  body, 
My  heart  was  caught,  before  I  thought, 

And  by  a  Mauchline 


No.  65.    In  Mauchline  there  dwells  six  proper 
young  belles. 

Tune  :  Bonie  Dundee. 

IN  Mauchline  there  dwells  six  proper  young  belles, 

The  pride  of  the  place  and  its  neighbourhood  a', 
Their  carriage  and  dress,  a  stranger  would  guess, 

In  Lon'on  or  Paris  they'd  gotten  it  a'. 
Miss  Miller  is  fine,  Miss  Markland 's  divine, 

Miss  Smith  she  has  wit,  and  Miss  Betty  is  braw ; 
There's  beauty  and  fortune  to  get  wi'  Miss  Morton, 

But  Armour's  the  jewel  for  me  o'  them  a'. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


No.  66.    O  thou  pale  Orb  that  silent  shines. 

Tune:  Scots  Queen.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  190. 


Slow 


mor  -  tals  sleep!  Thou  see1  st    a   wretch  who       in    -    ly    pines,    And     wan  - 


ders     here       to          wail    and    weep!      With        woe 


night-ly         vi 


SIS 


Us      keep   Be  -  neath    thy    wan,    un    -    warm  -  ing  beam;  And  mourn,  in 


n    -   ta   -    tion  deep,  How  life      and    love  are       all 
O  THOU  pale  Orb  that  silent  shines 

While  care-untroubled  mortals  sleep  ! 
Thou  seest  a  wretch  who  inly  pines, 
And  wanders  here  to  wail  and  weep  ! 
With  woe  I  nightly  vigils  keep, 
Beneath  thy  wan,  unwarming  beam  ; 

And  mourn,  in  lamentation  deep, 
How  life  and  love  are  all  a  dream  ! 
O,  thou  bright  Queen,  who  o'er  th'expanse 

Now  highest  reign'st  with  boundless  sway ! 
Oft  has  thy  silent-marking  glance 

Observ'd  us,  fondly-wan'dring,  stray  ! 

The  time,  unheeded,  sped  away, 
While  Love's  luxurious  pulse  beat  high, 

Beneath  thy  silver-gleaming  ray, 
To  mark  the  mutual-kindling  eye. 
O  scenes  in  strong  remembrance  set ! 

Scenes,  never,  never  to  return  ! 
Scenes  if  in  stupor  I  forget, 

Again  I  feel,  again  I  burn  ! 

From  ev'ry  joy  and  pleasure  torn, 
Life's  weary  vale  I'll  wander  thro', 

And  hopeless,  comfortless,  I'll  mourrt 
A  faithless  woman's  broken  vow. 

F2 


a    dream  ! 


63 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  67.    Again  rejoicing  Natiire  sees. 

Tune  :  Jockey  s  gray  breeks.         Cal.  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745,  ii.  p.  32. 
Brisk 


A  -  gain  re  -  joic  -  ing  Nature       sees  Her  robe    as-sume    its    ver-nal 


hues;      Her        lea     -    fy     locks  wave        in      the  breeze,  All    fresh    -    ly 
CHORUS. 


steep'd  in    morn-ing  dews.    And  maun  I    still    on  Me-nie  doat,  And 

^ — 

tr 


bear      the     scorn  that's      in     her    e'e?  For  /'/>     jet,       jet  black,  and 


like      a    hawk,  And  it      win  •  na       let         a  bo  -  dy    be ! 


AGAIN  rejoicing  Nature  sees 

Her  robe  assume  its  vernal  hues  ; 
Her  leafy  locks  wave  in  the  breeze, 

All  freshly  steep'd  in  morning  dews. 

CHORUS.     And  •maun  I  still  on  Menie  doat, 

And  bear  the  scorn  that 's  in  her  e'e  ? 
for  it's  jet,  jet-black,  and  it^s  like  a  hawk. 
And  it  winna  let  a  body  be  I 

In  vain  to  me  the  cowslips  blaw, 

In  vain  to  me  the  vi'lets  spring  ; 
In  vain  to  me  in  glen  or  shaw, 

The  mavis  and  the  lintwhite  sing. 

The  merry  ploughboy  cheers  his  team, 

Wi'  joy  the  tentie  seedsman  stalks, 
But  life  to  me's  a  weary  dream, 

A  dream  of  ane  that  never  wauks. 

The  wanton  coot  the  water  skims, 

Amang  the  reeds  the  ducklings  cry, 
And  stately  swan  majestic  swims, 

And  ev'rything  is  blest  but  J. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


69 


The  sheep-herd  steeks  his  faulding  slap, 
And  o'er  the  moorlands  whistles  shill, 

Wi'  wild,  unequal,  wand'ring  step, 
I  meet  him  on  the  dewy  hill. 

And  when  the  lark,  'tween  light  and  dark, 
Blythe  waukens  by  the  daisy's  side, 

And  mounts  and  sings  on  flittering  wings, 
A  woe-worn  ghaist  I  hameward  glide. 

Come  Winter,  with  thine  angry  howl, 
And  raging,  bend  the  naked  tree  ; 

Thy  gloom  will  soothe  my  cheerless  soul, 
When  Nature  all  is  sad  like  me  ! 


No.  68.    Tho    women  s  minds  like  winter  winds. 

Tune  :  For  a'  that. 

THO'  women's  minds  like  winter  winds 

May  shift,  and  turn,  an'  a*  that, 
The  noblest  breast  adores  them  maist — 

A  consequence,  I  draw  that. 

CHORUS.     For  cf  that,  an    a1  that, 

And  twice  as  tnickle's  a1  that, 
The  bonie  lass  that  I  loe  best, 
She'll  be  my  ain  for  a'  that! 

Great  love  I  bear  to  a'  the  fair, 

Their  humble  slave,  an'  a'  that ; 
But  lordly  will,  I  hold  it  still 

A  mortal  sin  to  thraw  that. 

But  there  is  ane  aboon  the  lave 

Has  wit,  and  sense,  an'  a'  that ; 
A  bonie  lass,  I  like  her  best, 

And  wha  a  crime  dare  ca'  that? 

In  rapture  sweet  this  hour  we  meet, 

Wi'  mutual  love  an'  a'  that, 
But  for  how  lang  the  flie  may  stang, 

Let  inclination  law  that. 

Their  tricks  an'  craft  hae  put  me  daft, 

They've  taen  me  in  an'  a'  that, 
But  clear  your  decks,  and  here's — '  The  sex'! 

I  like  the  jads  for  a'  that ! 


7o 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  69.    Of  a   the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw. 

: :  Miss  Admiral  Gordon's  Strathspey.     Scots  Mus.  Must 

Slow 


Of     a'     the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw  I    dear-!y  like  the  west,     For  there  the 


bonie       las  -  sie  lives,  The    las  -  sie       I  lo'ebestiThere'swild-woodsgrow^nd 


riv  -  ers    row,  And  mony     a     hill         be  -  tween,      But        day    and    night 


my  fan-cy's  flight,     Is        ev  -  er      wi'      my  Jean. 


I         see    her    in 


3F^- 


the  dew  -  y  flowers,  I         see    her     sweet      and      fair: 


hear    her 


in       the    tune  -  fu'  birds,     I      hear    her     charm    the       air :    There 's    not 


a      bon  -  ie     flower  that  springs  By        foun  -  tain,      shaw,        or    green, 


There's    not     a      bon-ie     bird  that  sings,  But  minds  me      o'      my  Jean. 

OF  a'  the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw 

I  dearly  like  the  west, 
For  there  the  bonie  lassie  lives, 

The  lassie  I  lo'e  best. 
There 's  wild-woods  grow,  and  rivers  row, 

And  mony  a  hill  between, 
But  day  and  night  my  fancy's  flight 

Is  ever  wi'  my  Jean. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


I  see  her  in  the  dewy  flowers. 

I  see  her  sweet  and  fair : 
I  hear  her  in  the  tunefu'  birds, 

I  hear  her  charm  the  air : 
There 's  not  a  bonie  flower  that  springs 

By  fountain,  shaw,  or  green, 
There's  not  a  bonie  bird  that  sings, 

But  minds  me  o'  my  Jean. 


No.  70.    O,  hoiv  can  I  be  blythe  and  glad? 

Tune  :  The  bonie  lad  that^sfar  awa.       Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  317. 

Slow 


O,    how    can     I       be  blythe  and  glad,  Or        how  can  I        gang  brisk  and  braw, 


When  the  bon  -  ie   lad  that      I  lo'e  best    Is    o'er  the  hills  and  far    a-wa  ?  When  the 


bo     -     nie     lad  that      I    lo'e  best    Is     o'er  the  hills  and        far     a  -    wa! 

O,  HOW  can  I  be  blythe  and  glad, 

Or  how  can  I  gang  brisk  and  braw, 
When  the  bonie  lad  that  I  lo'e  best )  , ., 

Is  o'er  the  hills  and  far  awa.  ) 

It 's  no  the  frosty  winter  wind, 

It's  no  the  driving  drift  and  snaw  ; 
But  ay  the  tear  comes  in  my  e'e     )  , ., 

To  think  on  him  that 's  far  awa.  j 
My  father  pat  me  frae  his  door, 

My  friends  they  hae  disown'd  me  a' ; 
But  I  hae  ane  will  tak  my  part —  )  ,  . 

The  bonie  lad  that's  far  awa.       \ 
A  pair  o1  glooves  he  bought  to  me, 

And  silken  snoods  he  gae  me  twa, 
And  I  will  wear  them  for  his  sake,  )  , . 

The  bonie  lad  that's  far  awa.          i 
O,  weary  winter  soon  will  pass, 

And  spring  will  deed  the  birken-shaw. 
And  my  sweet  baby  will  be  born,      )  , . 

And  he'll  be  hame  that's  far  awa. 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  71.    /  hae  <*  wife  o   my  ain. 

Tune  :  /  hae  a  wife  61  my  ain.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  352. 
Quick 


I  hae    a   wife  o'  my  ain,      I'll    partake  wi'    nae-bo-dy;  I'll   tak  cuckold 


frae  nane,  I'll    gie    cuckold  to  nae-bo-dy.       I    hae  a    pen-ny  tospend,There— 


thanks  to  nae-bo-dy!      I     hae  nae thing  to  lend,       I'll    bor-row  frae  nae-bo  -  dy. 


I  HAE  a  wife  o'  my  ain, 
I'll  partake  wi'  naebody ; 

I'll  tak  cuckold  frae  nane, 
I'll  gie  cuckold  to  naebody. 

I  hae  a  penny  to  spend, 
There — thanks  to  naebody  ! 

I  hae  naething  to  lend, 
I'll  borrow  frae  naebody. 


I  am  naebody's  lord, 

I'll  be  slave  to  naebody : 

I  hae  a  gude  braid-sword, 
I'll  tak  dunts  Frae  naebody. 

I'll  be  merry  and  free, 
I'll  be  sad  for  naebody, 

Naebody  cares  for  me, 
I  care  for  naebody. 


No.  72.    //  is  na,  yean,  thy  borne  face. 

Tune  :  The  maid's  complaint.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  333. 
Slow 


It    is     na,  "Jean,      thy      bon  -  ie   face  Nor   shape  that    I      ad  -  mire, 


Al    -    tho*     thy  beau-ty        andthygraceMightweel  a-wauk  de  -  sire. 


Some    -    thing       in        il      -      ka          part       o1        thee      To        praise, 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


73 


form 


>        me,      Still        dear    -    er         is 

IT  is  na,  Jean,  thy  bonie  face 

Nor  shape  that  I  admire, 
Altho'  thy  beauty  and  thy  grace 

Might  weel  awauk  desire. 
Something  in  ilka  part  o'  thee 

To  praise,  to  love,  I  find ; 
But,  dear  as  is  thy  form  to  me, 

Still  dearer  is  thy  mind. 

Nae  mair  ungen'rous  wish  I  hae, 

Nor  stronger  in  my  breast, 
Than,  if  I  canna  mak  thee  sae, 

At  least  to  see  thee  blest. 
Content  am  I,  if  Heaven  shall  give 

But  happiness  to  thee, 
And,  as  wi'  thee  I'd  wish  to  live, 

For  thee  I'd  bear  to  die. 


thy 


No.  73.   Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee  ? 


Tune  :  Low's,  what  reck. 
Boldly 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  414. 


Lou-Is,  what  reck    I     by    thee,  Or     Geordie    on        his  o  -  cean  ? 


Dy  -  vor    beg-gar  loons      to      me!    I    reign  in    Jea-nie's       bo 


Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee, 
Or  Geordie  on  his  ocean  ? 

Dyvor  beggar  loons  to  me  ! 
I  reign  in  Jeanie's  bosom. 

Let  her  crown  my  love  her  law, 
And  in  her  breast  enthrone  me  : 

Kings  and  nations  —  swith  awa  ! 
Reif  randies,  I  disown  ye  ! 


74 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  74.    O,  were  I  on  Parnassus   hill. 

Tune  :  My  love  is  lost  to  me.         Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  p.  25. 
Mod.  quick 


^/  ^ —        — J-         ^x  *• —  '  *   * 


O,      were 


on      Par  -   nas  -  sus'     hill !      Or      had    o'    He   -   li    - 


con       my        fill,    That        I     might  catch       po     -     e     -     tic     skill    To 


tfc 


I  ^ 

sing    how     dear        I  love   thee !      But     Nith    maun    be      my    Mu 


se's    well,     My     Muse    maun       be  thy  bo 


Cor -sin- con     I'll     glow' r  and  spell,  And  write  how  dear       I 
O,  WERE  I  on  Parnassus'  hill, 
Or  had  o'  Helicon  my  fill, 
That  I  might  catch  poetic  skill 

To  sing  how  dear  I  love  thee  ! 
But  Nith  maun  be  my  Muse's  well, 
My  Muse  maun  be  thy  bonie  sel', 
On  Corsincon  I'll  glow'r  and  spell, 

And  write  how  dear  I  love  thee. 
Then,  come,  sweet  Muse,  inspire  my  lay ! 
For  a'  the  lee-la ng  simmer's  day 
I  couldna  sing,  I  couldna  say 

How  much,  how  dear  I  love  thee. 
I  see  thee  dancing  o'er  the  green, 
Thy  waist  sae  jimp,  thy  limbs  sae  clean, 
Thy  tempting  lips,  thy  rogueish  een— 

By  heaven  and  earth  I  love  thee ! 
By  night,  by  day,  a-field,  at  hame, 
The  thoughts  o'  thee  my  breast  inflame, 
And  ay  I  muse  and  sing  thy  name — 

I  only  live  to  love  thee. 
Tho'  I  were  doom'd  to  wander  on, 
Beyond  the  sea,  beyond  the  sun, 
Till  my  last  weary  sand  was  run-; 

Till  then— and  then  — I'd  love- thee! 


love  thee. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


75 


No.  75.    Out  over  the  Forth,  I  look  to  the  north. 

Tune :  Charles  Graham's  welcome  hame.     Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1796,  No.  421. 
Slow 


Out         o  -  ver  the  Forth,  I      look  to  the  north— But   what  is  the  north  and 


its  High-lands  to  me?    The    south  nor  the  east    gie     ease  to  my  breast,  The 


far  foreign  land,  or  the  wide  roll-ing  sea !  But    I      look     to    the  west,  When  I 


gae       to  rest,  That  hap-py  my  dreams  and  my  slumbers  maybe;  For   far     in 


the  west  lives   he       I  lo'e best,  The  man  that  is  dear  to  my     ba-bie  and  me. 

OUT  over  the  Forth,  I  look  to  the  north — 

But  what  is  the  north,  and  its  Highlands  to  me? 

The  south  nor  the  east  gie  ease  to  my  breast, 
The  far  foreign  land  or  the  wide  rolling  sea ! 

But  I  look  to  the  west,  when  I  gae  to  rest, 
That  happy  my  dreams  and  my  slumbers  may  be  ; 

For  far  in  the  west  lives  he  I  lo'e  best. 
That  man  that  is  dear  to  my  babie  and  me. 


No.  76.    For  thee  is  laughing  Nature  gay. 

Tune:  Scots  Queen  (see  No.  66). 

FOR  thee  is  laughing  Nature  gay, 
For  thee  she  pours  the  vernal  day  : 
For  me  in  vain  is  Nature  drest, 
While  Joy's  a  stranger  to  my  breast. 


76 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  77.     Your  friendship  much  can  make  me  blest. 

Tune:  Banks  of  Spcy.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  186. 
Very  slow 


v_~ 
Your  friend-ship  much  can  make    me    blest— O,      why       that        bliss        de      - 


stroy?        Why      urge      the      only.      one        re 


quest    You      know 


;ill        de    -     ny?         Your  thought,  if    "Love    must         har   -  bour 


there,  Con  -  ceal 


that    thought,       Nor       cause         me 


from     my          bo     -     soiii    tear  The     ve 


friend  I         sought. 


YOUR  friendship  much  can  make  me  blest — 

O,  why  that  bliss  destroy? 
Why  urge  the  only,  one  request 

You  know  I  will  deny  ? 
Your  thought,  if  Love  must  harbour  there, 

Conceal  it  in  that  thought, 
Nor  cause  me  from  my  bosom  tear 

The  very  friend  I  sought. 


No.  78.    Thine  am  /,  my  faithful  fair. 


Tune  :  The  Quaker's 

THINE  am  I,  my  faithful  fair, 

Thine  my  lovely  Nancy  ! 
Every  pulse  along  my  veins, 

Ev'ry  roving  fancy  ! 
To  thy  bosom  lay  my  heart 

There  to  throb  and  languish  : 
Tho'  despair  had  wrung  its  core, 

That  would  heal  its  anguish. 


Wife  (see  No.  40). 

Take  away  those  rosy  lips 

Rich  with  balmy  treasure  I 
Turn  away  thine  eyes  of  love, 

Lest  I  die  with  pleasure  ! 
What  is  life  when  wanting  love  ? 

Night  without  a  morning : 
Love's  the  cloudless  summer  sun, 

Nature  gay  adorning. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


77 


No.  79.   Behold  the  hour,  the  boat  arrive! 

Tune:  Oran  gaoil,         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  273. 

Slew 


^ecw  /-— _  -v. 


Be  -  hold     the  hour,  the      boat      ar  -  rive  !  Thou  go-est,    the     dar  -  ling 


of         my       heart!      Sever1  d    from      thee,     can         I         sur  -  vive?    But 


Fate    has      will'd      and          we      must  part.      I'll       oft    -    en    greet  th 


surg-ing  swell,  Yon     dis  -  tant    isle    will    oft  -  en  hail: — 'E'en  here        I 


took     the    last     fare  -  well ;         There,  la-test  mark'd  her    van  -  ish'd  sail ! 

BEHOLD  the  hour,  the  boat  arrive  ! 

Thou  goest,  the  darling  of  my  heart ! 
Sever'd  from  thee,  can  I  survive? 

But  Fate  has  will'd  and  we  must  part. 
I'll  often  greet  the  surging  swell, 

Yon  distant  isle  will  often  hail  : — 
4  E'en  here  I  took  the  last  farewell ; 

There,  latest  mark'd  her  vanish'd  sail ! ' 

Along  the  solitary  shore, 

While  flitting  sea-fowl  round  me  cry, 
Across  the  rolling,  dashing  roar, 

I'll  westward  turn  my  wistful  eye  : — 
1  Happy,  thou  Indian  grove,'  I'll  say, 

'  Where  now  my  Nancy's  path  may  be  ! 
While  thro'  thy  sweets  she  loves  to  stray, 

O,  tell  me,  does  she  muse  on  me  ? ' 


78 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  80.    Clarinda,  mistress  of  my  soul. 

Tune  :  Clarinda.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  198. 


Slow 


?=* 


^E^EEE 


Cla  -  rin  -  da,     mis -tress  of      my 


soul, 


The          mea   -   sur'd 


marks 


his 


la 


drear    -    y    pole 

CLARINDA,  mistress  of  my  soul, 

The  measurM  time  is  run  ! 
The  wretch  beneath  the  dreary  pole 

So  marks  his  latest  sun. 
To  what  dark  cave  of  frozen  night 

Shall  poor  Sylvander  hie, 
Deprived  of  thee,  his  life  and  light, 

The  sun  of  all  his  joy? 
We  part — but,  by  these  precious  drops 

That  fill  thy  lovely  eyes, 
No  other  light  shall  guide  my  steps, 

Till  thy  bright  beams  arise ! 
She,  the  fair  sun  of  all  her  sex, 

Has  blest  my  glorious  day  ; 
And  shall  a  glimmering  planet  fix 

My  worship  to  its  ray? 


No.  8 1.    Now  in  her  green  mantle  blythe 
Nature  arrays. 

Tune  :  There  are  feiv  good  fellows  when  Jamie  's  aw  a. 

Now  in  her  green  mantle  blythe  Nature  arrays, 
And  listens  the  lambkins  that  bleat  o'er  the  braes, 
While  birds  warble  welcomes  in  ilka  green  shaw, 
But  to  me  it's  delightless — my  Name's  awa. 
The  snaw-drap  and  primrose  our  woodlands  adorn, 
And  violets  bathe  in  the  weet  o'  the  morn. 
They  pain  my  sad  bosom,  sae  sweetly  they  blaw, 
They  mind  me  o'  Nanie, — and  Nanie  's  awa ! 


LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


79 


Thou  lav'rock,  that  springs  frae  the  dews  of  the  lawn, 
The  shepherd  to  warn  o'  the  grey-breaking  dawn, 
And  thou  mellow  mavis,  that  hails  the  night-fa', 
Give  over  for  pity — my  Nanie's  awa. 

Come  Autumn,  sae  pensive  in  yellow  and  grey, 
And  soothe  me  wi'  tidings  o'  Nature's  decay  ! 
The  dark,  dreary  winter  and  wild  driving  snaw 
Alane  can  delight  me — now  Nanie's  awa. 


No.  82.    O  May,  thy  morn  was  neer  so  sweet. 


Tune  :  The  rashes. 
Moderate  time 


Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  p.  26. 


O  May,  thy  morn  was  ne'er  sae  sweet  As  the  mirk  night  o'  De  -  cem-ber !  For 


spark-ling  was  the      ro  -  sy  wine,  And    pri  -  vate   was    the        cham-ber:    And 


dear  was  she      I      dare    na    name,  But     I     will    ay       re  -  mem-ber :  And 

tr 


dear   was   she      I      dare    na  name ;  But     I       will    ay      re  -  mem  -  ber. 

O  MAY,  thy  morn  was  ne'er  sae  sweet 

As  the  mirk  night  o'  December ! 
For  sparkling  was  the  rosy  wine, 

And  private  was  the  chamber  : 
And  dear  was  she  I  dare  na  name, 

But  I  will  ay  remember. 


bis 


And  here 's  to  them  that,  like  oursel, 

Can  push  about  the  jorum  ; 
And  here's  to  them  that  wish  us  weel — 

May  a'  that 's  guid  watch  o'er  'em  ; 
And  here 's  to  them  we  dare  na  tell,  )  , . 

The  dearest  o'  the  quorum  ! 


8o 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  83.  Ance  mair  I  hail  thee,  thou  gloomy  December. 

Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  499. 


Tune  :  Thro"1  the  Jang  moor.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  499. 

Slow  r~  —  i  1r 


Ance  mair      I    hail  thee,  thou  gloom-y       De  -   cem  -  ber !  Ance  mair    I 
tr  tr 


hail    thee     wi'  sor-row      and         care !     Sad   was    the   part  -  ing  thou  makes 

tr 


me        re    -    mem  -  ber  :  Part-ing    wi'  Nan  -  cy,    O,  ne'er  to    meet    mair ! 


^  *  ^  ^^  ^^^2 


Fond  lov  -  ers'  part    -    ing  is  sweet,  pain-ful  pleas  «  ure,     Hope  bear 

tr 


ing    mild    on    the       soft    part  -  ing    hour ;  But    the    dire  feel  -  ing,     O,  fare- 

tr 


^   -*^f?--&-. 


well        for       ev    -    er !  An-guish      un-min-gled  and    a  -  go    -    ny       pure ! 


ANCE  mair  I  hail  thee,  thou  gloomy  December  ! 

Ance  mair  I  hail  thee  wi'  sorrow  and  care ! 
Sad  was  the  parting  thou  makes  me  remember  ; 

Parting  wi'  Nancy,  O,  ne'er  to  meet  mair ! 

Fond  lovers'  parting  is  sweet,  painful  pleasure, 
Hope  beaming  mild  on  the  soft  parting  hour  ; 

But  the  dire  feeling,  O,  farewell  for  ever ! 
Anguish  unmingled  and  agony  pure  ! 

Wild  as  the  winter  now  tearing  the  forest, 
Till  the  last  leaf  o'  the  summer  is  flown  — 

Such  is  the  tempest  has  shaken  my  bosom, 
Till  my  last  hope  and  last  comfort  is  gone ! 


LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


81 


Still  as  I  hail  thee,  thou  gloomy  December, 
Still  shall  I  hail  thee  wi'  sorrow  and  care  ; 

For  sad  was  the  parting  thou  makes  me  remember ; 
Parting  wi'  Nancy,  O,  ne'er  to  meet  mair  ! 


No.  84.    Ae  fond  kiss,  and  then  we  sever  ! 


Tune  :  Rory  DalVs  Port. 

Slow 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  347. 


Ae    fond  kiss,  and   then  we  se-ver!      Ae  fare-well,  and    then  for     ev-er! 


Deep  in  heart-wrung  tears  I'll  pledge  thee,  Warring  sighs  and  groans  I'll  wage  thee. 


AE  fond  kiss,  and  then  we  sever ! 

Ae  farewell,  and  then  for  ever ! 

Deep  in  heart-wrung  tears  Til  pledge  thee, 

Warring  sighs  and  groans  I'll  wage  thee. 

Who  shall  say  that  Fortune  grieves  him, 
While  the  star  of  hope  she  leaves  him? 
Me,  nae  cheerfu'  twinkle  lights  me, 
Dark  despair  around  benights  me. 

Til  ne'er  blame  my  partial  fancy — 
Naething  could  resist  my  Nancy ! 
But  to  see  her  was  to  love  her, 
Love  but  her,  and  love  for  ever. 

Had  we  never  lov'd  sae  kindly, 
Had  we  never  lov'd  sae  blindly, 
Never  met — or  never  parted — 
We  had  ne'er  been  broken-hearted. 

Fare-thee-weel,  thou  first  and  fairest ! 
Fare-thee-weel,  thou  best  and  dearest ! 
Thine  be  ilka  joy  and  treasure, 
Peace,  Enjoyment,  Love  and  Pleasure  ! 

Ae  fond  kiss,  and  then  we  sever ! 

Ae  farewell,  alas,  for  ever ! 

Deep  in  heart-wrung  tears  I'll  pledge  thee, 

Warring  sighs  and  groans  I'll  wage  thee. 


82 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  85.    Sensibility  how  charming. 


Tune :  Cornwallis's  lammt. 
Plaintive 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  329. 


Sen  -  si  -  bil  -  i  -  ty     how     charm-ing,  Dear-est    Nan  -  cy,     thou  canst 

it 


tell ;  But  dis  -  tress  with  hor-rors  arm-ing,  Thou  a-las !  hast  known  too  well ! 

^^fnJ-J^te 


Fair-est    flow-er,  be-hold  the     li  -  ly  Bloom-ing  in  the     sun  -  ny         ray 

tr~ 


Let  the  blast  sweep  o'er  the  val  -  ley,   See  it    pros-trate  in     the         clay. 


SENSIBILITY  how  charming, 

Dearest  Nancy,  thou  canst  tell  ; 
But  distress  with  horrors  arming, 

Thou  alas  !    hast  known  too  well  ! 
Fairest  flower,  behold  the  lily 

Blooming  in  the  sunny  ray  : 
Let  the  blast  sweep  o'er  the  valle 

See  it  prostrate  in  the  clay. 

Hear  the  woodlark  charm  the  forest, 

Telling  o'er  his  little  joys  ; 
But  alas!   a  prey  the  surest 

To  each  pirate  of  the  skies. 
Dearly  bought  the  hidden  treasure      \ 

Finer  feelings  can  bestow  :  (  ,  • 

Chords  that  vibrate  sweetest  pleasure  | 

' 


\ 

I  ^. 
y,  f 
' 


Thrill  the  deepest  notes  of  woe. 


No.  86.   From  the  white-blossom  d  sloe. 

(Tune  unknown.) 
FROM  the  white-blossom'd  sloe  my  dear  Chloris  requested 

A  sprig,  her  fair  breast  to  adorn  : 
<No,  by  Heaven  !' — I  exclaim'd— 'let  me  perish  for  ever, 

Ere  I  plant  in  that  bosom  a  thorn  ! ' 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


No.  87.     Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie? 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  470. 


Tune  :    The  sutor's  dochter. 
L     Slow 


"^ 
When  sor-row  wrings  thy    gen-tie  heart,    O, 


wilt  thou  let  me  cheer  thee  ?  By  the  treasure  of  my  soul — That's  the  love  I  bear 
/•*.. 


thee—  I     swear  and  vow  that     on  -  ly  thou  Shall      ev  -  er  be     my  dear-ie  ! 


On  -  ly   thou,      I     swear   and    vow     Shall      ev  -  er    be      my    dear  -  ie, 

WILT  thou  be  my  dearie? 
When  sorrow  wrings  thy  gentle  heart, 

O,  wilt  thou  let  me  cheer  thee? 
By  the  treasure  of  my  soul — 

That's  the  love  I  bear  thee — 
I  swear  and  vow  that  only  thou 

Shall  ever  be  my  dearie  ! 
Only  thou,  I  swear  and  vow, 

Shall  ever  be  my  dearie. 

Lassie,  say  thou  lo'es  me, 
Or,  if  thou  wilt  na  be  my  ain, 

Say  na  thou'lt  refuse  me ! 
If  it  winna,  canna  be, 

Thou  for  thine  may  choose  me, 
Let  me,  lassie,  quickly  die, 

Trusting  that  thou  lo'es  me  ! 
Lassie,  let  me  quickly  die, 

Trusting  that  thou  lo'es  me ! 


No.  88.    Why,  why  tell  thy  lover. 

Tune  :  Caledonian  Hunt's  delight  (see  No.  123). 


WHY,  why  tell  thy  lover 
Bliss  he  never  must  enjoy? 

Why,  why  undeceive  him, 

And    give    all    his    hopes    the 
lie? 


O,    why,    while     Fancy,     raptur'd, 
slumbers, 

<  Chloris,  Chloris,'  all  the  theme  ; 
Why,  why  wouldst  thou,  cruel, 

Wake  thy  lover  from  his  dream  ? 


84 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  89.    Sleep '  st  thou,  or  wak'st  thou  f 

Tune  :  De'il  tak  the  Wars.         Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  i.  p.  294. 


Cheerfully 


Sleep'st  thou,  or  wak'st  thou,  fair    -    est      crea-ture  ?  Ro   -  sy 


morn    now 


lifts      his     eye,  Num-ber-ing    il  -  ka      bud,    which    Na-ture     Wa  -  ters 
—IT —     '"-  i  ^-»V     ^  n  ^     ^m—*-    0       [^  f Is 


wi1        the          tears         o'       joy.      Now     to    the  stream-ing  foun-tain  Or 

-\r- ^-M*   \  fe-fc-r^     ^  >   M-HVJV 


up    the  heathy  mountain  The  hart,  hind,  and  roe,  free-ly  wild-  ly    wan  -  ton 


stray;  In  twining  ha-zel  bow'rs    His    lay  the     lin-net  pours ;  The  lave-rock  to 


the  sky  Ascends  wi  sangs  o'  joy,  While  the  sun  and  thou  a-rise   to  bless  the  day. 

SLEEP'ST  thou,  or  wak'st  thou,  fairest  creature? 

Rosy  morn  now  lifts  his  eye, 
Numbering  ilka  bud,  which  Nature 

Waters  wi'  the  tears  o1  joy. 

Now  to  the  streaming  fountain 

Or  up  the  heathy  mountain 
The  hart,  hind,  and  roe,  freely,  wildly -wanton  stray  ; 

In  twining  hazel  bow'rs 

His  lay  the  linnet  pours; 

The  laverock  to  the  sky 

Ascends  wi'  sangs  o'  joy, 
While  the  sun  and  thou  arise  to  bless  the  day. 

Phoebus,   gilding  the  brow  of  morning, 

Banishes  ilk  darksome  shade, 
Nature  gladdening  and  adorning  ; 

Such  to  me  my  lovely  maid  ! 

When  frae  my  Chloris  parted 

Sad,  cheerless,  broken-hearted, 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


The  night's  gloomy  shades,  cloudy,  dark,  o'ercast  my  sky  : 

But  when  she  charms  my  sight 

In  pride  of  beauty's  light, 

When  thro1  my  very  heart 

Her  beaming  glories  dart — 
Tis  then — 'tis  then,  I  wake  to  life  and  joy. 


No.  90.    Sweet  fas  the  eve  on  Craigieburn. 

Tune:  Craigie-burn  Wood.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  301. 
With  expression  ^ 


Sweet       fa's       the     eve      on     Craig  -  ie  -  burn,     And        blythe     a     - 


wakes   the    mor  -  row,     But        a'      the    pride    o1    Spring's  re  -  turn      Can 


yield        me    nocht      but    sor   -    row. 


see    the  flow  -  ers  and 


spread  -  ing  trees,     I      hear  the      wild  birds    sing  -  ing ;    But    what    a 


wea   -    ry     wight  can  please,    And       Care     his     bo  -   som  wring  -  ing? 


SWEET  fa's  the  eve  on  Craigieburn, 

And  blythe  awakes  the  morrow, 
But  a'  the  pride  o'  Spring's  return 

Can  yield  me  nocht  but  sorrow. 
I    see    the    flowers  and    spreading 
trees, 

I  hear  the  wild  birds  singing  ; 
But  what  a  weary  wight  can  please, 

And  Care  his  bosom  wringing? 


Fain,  fain  would  I  my  griefs  impart, 

Yet  dare  na  for  your  anger ; 
But  secret  love  will  break  my  heart, 

If  I  conceal  it  langer. 
If  thou  refuse  to  pity  me, 

If  thou  shall  love  another, 
When   yon    green  leaves  fade  frae 
the  tree, 

Around  my  grave  they'll  wither. 


86 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  91.    Sae  flaxen  were  her  ringlets. 

Tune  :  OonagKs  Waterfall.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  447. 
Cheerfully 


j^gp^^mgfa^gjSggj 


Sae    flax  -  en  were  her  ring-lets,  Her  eye-brows  of   a    dark-er  hue,  Be-witch  - 
ing  -  ly  o'er-arch-ing  Twa  laugh-ing  een  o'  bon  -  ie  blue,  Her  smil-ing,  sae  wyl-ing, 


I  ,_  nrz  '  1 1   rr3 


Wad  make  a  wretch  for-get  his  woe !  What  pleasure,  what  treasure,  Un  -  to  those 


ro  -  sy  lips  to  grow !  Such  was  my  Chloris'  bon  -  ie  face,  When  first  that  bon-ie 


face  I  saw,  And  ay  my  Chloris1  dearest  charm— She  says  she  lo'es  me  best  of  a' 

SAE  flaxen  were  her  ringlets, 

Her  eyebrows  of  a  darker  hue, 
Bewitchingly  o'erarching 

Twa  laughing  een  o'  bonie  blue. 
Her  smiling,  sae  wyling, 

Wad  make  a  wretch  forget  his  woe  ! 
What  pleasure,  what  treasure, 

Unto  those  rosy  lips  to  grow ! 
Such  was  my  Chloris'  bonie  face, 

When  first  that  bonie  face  I  saw, 
And  ay  my  Chloris'  dearest  charm — 

She  says  she  lo'es  me  best  of  a'. 

Like  harmony  her  motion, 

Her  pretty  ankle  is  a  spy 
Betraying  fair  proportion 

Wad  mak  a  saint  forget  the  sky  ! 
Sae  warming,  sae  charming, 

Her  faultless  form  and  gracefu'  air ; 
Ilk  feature — auld  Nature 

Declared  that  she  could  do  nae  mair! 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


87 


Hers  are  the  willing  chains  o'  love 

By  conquering  Beauty's  sovereign  law, 

And  ay  my  Chloris'  dearest  charm — 
She  says  she  lo'es  me  best  of  a'. 

Let  others  love  the  city, 

And  gaudy  show  at  sunny  noon  ; 
Gie  me  the  lonely  valley, 

The  dewy  eve,  and  rising  moon, 
Fair  beaming,  and  streaming, 

Her  silver  light  the  boughs  amang; 
While  falling,  recalling, 

The  amorous  thrush  concludes  his  sang ! 
There,  dearest  Chloris,  wilt  thou  rove 

By  wimpling  burn  and  leafy  shaw, 
And  hear  my  vows  o'  truth  and  love, 

And  say  thou  lo'es  me  best  of  a'  ? 


No.  92.    Can  I  cease  to  care? 

Tune  :  Ay,  waukin,  O.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  213. 

Slow 


CHORUS.  Long)  long  the  night,  Heavy  conies  the  mor-row^  While  my  souPs  de-light 

Fine. 


Is      on    her  bed   of  sor-row.    Can 


I       cease  to    care  ?  Can  I  cease 
B.C. 


to  lan-guish,  While  my       dar  -  ling   fair  Is     on      the  couch  of    an  -  guish ! 


CHORUS.  Long,  long  the  night, 

Heavy  comes  the  morrow, 
While  my  soul's  delight 
Is  on  her  bed  of  sorrow. 

CAN  I  cease  to  care  ? 

Can  I  cease  to  languish, 
While  my  darling  fair 

Is  on  the  couch  of  anguish  ! 


Ev'ry  hope  is  fled, 
EvVy  fear  is  terror  ; 

Slumber  ev'n  I  dread, 
Ev'ry  dream  is  horror. 

Hear  me,  Powers  divine  ! 

O,  in  pity,  hear  me  ! 
Take  aught  else  of  mine, 

But  my  Chloris  spare  me ! 


88 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  93.    Their  groves  o   sweet  myrtle. 

Tune  :  Humours  of  Glen.         Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  P-  95- 
Moderate  time 


Their  groves   o'      sweet  myr-tle  let     foreign  lands  reckon,  Where  bright-beam 


ing   sum-mers  ex  -  alt  the  per-fume  ;  Far  dear-  er        to      me  yon  lone  glen  o' 


s=E 


green  breckan,  Wi'  the   burn   steal  -  ing     un  -  der      the      lang,    yel-low  broom 


Far    dearer    to  me  are  yon    hum-ble  broom  bowers,  Where  the  blue-bell  and 
tr 


gowan    lurk     low  -  Iy,     un-seen ;   For    there,   light-ly   trip -ping    A  -  mang  the 


wild  flow  -  ers,       A   -   list'-ning    the      lin   -   net,      aft      wan-ders    my    Jean. 

THEIR  groves  o'  sweet  myrtle  let  foreign  lands  reckon, 

Where  bright-beaming  summers  exalt  the  perfume ; 
Far  dearer  to  me  yon  lone  glen  o'  green  breckan, 

Wi'  the  burn  stealing  under  the  lang,  yellow  broom  ; 
Far  dearer  to  me  are  yon  humble  broom  bowers, 

Where  the  bluebell  and  gowan  lurk  lowly,  unseen  ; 
For  there,  lightly  tripping  amang  the  wild  flowers, 

A-list'ning  the  linnet,  aft  wanders  my  Jean. 

Tho'  rich  is  the  breeze  in  their  gay,  sunny  vallies, 

And  cauld  Caledonia's  blast  on  the  wave, 
Their  sweet-scented  woodlands  that  skirt  the  proud  palace, 

What  are  they  ? — The  haunt  of  the  tyrant  and  slave ! 
The  slave's  spicy  forests  and  gold-bubbling  fountains 

The  brave  Caledonian  views  wi'  disdain  ; 
He  wanders  as  free  as  the  winds  of  his  mountains, 

Save  Love's  willing  fetters— the  chains  o'  his  Jean. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


89 


No.  94.    Mark  yonder  pomp  of  costly  fashion^ 

Tune  :  Deil  tak  the  Wars  (see  No.  89). 

MARK  yonder  pomp  of  costly  fashion 

Round  the  wealthy,  titled  bride  ; 
But,  when  compar'd  with  real  passion, 
Poor  is  all  that  princely  pride. 

What  are  the  showy  treasures? 

What  are  the  noisy  pleasures  ? 
The  gay,  gaudy  glare  of  vanity  and  art ! 

The  polish'd  jewel's  blaze 

May  draw  the  wond'ring  gaze, 

And  courtly  grandeur  bright 

The  fancy  may  delight, 
But  never,  never  can  come  near  the  heart. 

But  did  you  see  my  dearest  Chloris 

In  simplicity's  array, 

Lovely  as  yonder  sweet  opening  flower  is, 
Shrinking  from  the  gaze  of  day  ! 

O  then,  the  heart  alarming 

And  all  resistless  charming, 
In  Love's  delightful  fetters  she  chains  the  willing  soul ! 

Ambition  would  disown 

The  world's  imperial  crown  ! 

Ev'n  Avarice  would  deny 

His  worshipp'd  deity, 
And  feel  thro'  every  vein  Love's  raptures  roll ! 


No.  95.    Ah,  Chloris ',  since  it  may  not  be. 

Tune  :  Major  Graham  (see  No.  152). 

AH,  Chloris,  since  it  may  not  be 

That  thou  of  love  wilt  hear, 
If  from  the  lover  thou  maun  flee, 

Yet  let  the  friend  be  dear. 

Altho'  I  love  my  Chloris  mair 

Than  ever  tongue  could  tell, 
My  passion  I  will  ne'er  declare 

I'll  say,  I  wish  thee  well. 

Tho'  a*  my  daily  care  thou  art, 

And  a'  my  nightly  dream, 
I'll  hide  the  struggle  in  my  heart, 

And  say  it  is  esteem. 


9o 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  9 6.    I  see  a  form,  I  see  a  face. 

Tune  :  This  is  no  mine  ain  house.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  32. 
Moderate  time 


CHORUS.  This  is    no     my     ain     las  •  st'e,   Fair     tho"1  the     las  •  sie       be ;     Weel 

Fine. 


^EgEg=g 


I     my     ain      las  -  sie — Kind    love   is     it, 


I         see 


form,      I  see          a       face,  Ye    weel  may  wi'    the     fair  -  est  place :    It 

D.C. 


wants    to    me      the      witch  -  ing    grace,  The    kind    love  that 's  in    her    e'e. 


CHORUS.      This  is  no  my  ain  lassie, 
Fair  thai'  the  lassie  be  j 
Weel  ken  I  my  ain  lassie — 
Kind  love  is  in  her  e'e. 

I  SEE  a  form,  I  see  a  face, 
Ye  weel  may  wi'  the  fairest  place  : 
It  wants  to  me  the  witching  grace, 
The  kind  love  that's  in  her  e'e. 

She 's  bonie,  blooming,  straight,  and  tall, 
And  lang  has  had  my  heart  in  thrall ; 
And  ay  it  charms  my  very  saul, 
The  kind  love  that's  in  her  e'e. 

A  thief  sae  pawkie  is  my  Jean, 
To  steal  a  blink  by  a'  unseen  \ 
But  gleg  as  light  are  lovers'  een, 
When  kind  love  is  in  the  e'e. 

It  may  escape  the  courtly  sparks, 
It  may  escape  the  learned  clerks ; 
But  well  the  watching  lover  marks 
The  kind  love  that's  in  her  e'e. 


I.     LOVE  !    PERSONAL 


No.  97.    O,  borne  was  yon  rosy  brier. 

Tune  :  I  wish  my  love  were  in  a  mire.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  5. 
Moderate  time 


O,          bon   -     ie    was   yon         ro     -     -     sy  brier  That  blooms  sae 


I 


=S^SF 


far          frae  haunt     o'      man,    And       bon  -  ie     she —  and         ah, 


how  dear !     It         shad  -  ed      frae        the  e'en   -  in        sun.          Yon 


rose  -  buds     in         the          morn    -    ing    dew,     How      pure       a  -  mang 


the  leaves     sae      green— But  pur    -    -    er      was      .          the 


lo     -     ver's  vow      They   wit-ness' d      in        their        shade      yestr  -  een. 

O,  BONIE  was  yon  rosy  brier 

That  blooms  sae  far  frae  haunt  o'  man, 
And  bonie  she — and  ah,  how  dear ! 

It  shaded  frae  the  e'enin  sun. 
Yon  rosebuds  in  the  morning  dew, 

How  pure  amang  the  leaves  sae  green — 
But  purer  was  the  lover's  vow 

They  witness'd  in  their  shade  yestreen. 

All  in  its  rude  and  prickly  bower, 

That  crimson  rose  how  sweet  and  fair ; 
But  love  is  far  a  sweeter  flower 

Amid  life's  thorny  path  o'  care. 
The  pathless  wild  and  wimpling  burn, 

Wi'  Chloris  in  my  arms,  be  mine, 
And  I  the  world  nor  wish  nor  scorn — 

Its  joys  and  griefs  alike  resign ! 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  98.    O,  wat  ye  who,  that  Ides  me. 

Tune  :  Morag.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  143. 
Gracefully  _^ 

atesa-f 


c± 


O,  wat  ye  wha  that  lo'es  me,  And  has  my  heart  a    keep  -  ing?   O,  sweet  is 
f* 


she    that  lo'es  me   As   dews      o'    sum-met  weep-ing,    In   tears  the  rose-buds 
CHORUS. 


CHORUS.          jS 


steep-ing !      O,  that ' s  the  las-sie    o*  my  heartt  My  las  -  sie  ev  •  er  dear  •  er  ; 


Ot     thafs  the  queen  o"1    -wo-man-kind  And  ne'er  a    one     to  peer  her! 


O,  WAT  ye  wha  that  lo'es  me, 
And  has  my  heart  a  keeping? 

O,  sweet  is  she  that  lo'es  me 
As  dews  o'  summer  weeping, 
In  tears  the  rosebuds  steeping ! 

CHORUS.     O,  that's  the  lassie  o'  my  heart, 

My  lassie  ever  dearer ; 
O,  that's  the  queen  ci*  womankind, 
And  ne'er  a  ane  to  peer  her  I 

If  thou  shalt  meet  a  lassie 

In  grace  and  beauty  charming, 

That  e'en  thy  chosen  lassie, 

Erewhile  thy  breast  sae  warming, 
Had  ne'er  sic  powers  alarming:  — 

If  thou  hadst  heard  her  talking 
(And  thy  attention  's  plighted), 

That  ilka  body  talking 

But  her,  by  thee  is  slighted, 
And  thou  art  all  delighted  : — 


I.     LOVE  !    PERSONAL 


93 


If  thou  hast  met  this  fair  one, 
When  frae  her  thou  hast  parted, 

If  every  other  fair  one 

But  her  thou  hast  deserted, 
And  thou  art  broken-hearted ; 

O,   thafs  the  lassie  o'  my  heart, 
My  lassie  ever  dearer; 

O,  thaCs  the  queen  o'  womankind, 
And  ne'er  a  ane  to  peer  her! 


No.  99.    There's  nane  shall  ken,  there's  nane 
can  guess. 

Tune  :  I'll  gae  nae  mair  to  your  town.         Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1757,  p.  6. 

* 


CHORUS.    /'//    ay    ca1     in    by  yon  town  And    by     yon  gar -den  green  a -gain! 

-N  ^     tr  _      ^  w  Fine. 

~\"P    9**. 


£ 


zfc:«=i=£ 


& 


dv 


^= 


/'//      ajv      fa'     in    by  yon  town^  And  see  my  bon-ie  Jean  a-gain.  There 's 

V 


nane  shall  ken,  there 's  nane  can  guess  What  brings  me  back  the   gate      a  -  gain, 

B.C. 


g^^ 


But    she,   my  fair -est  faith -fu' lass,  And  stown-lins  we  shall  meet  a  -  gain. 

CHORUS.     /'//  ay  ca1  in  by  yon  town 

And  by  yon  garden-green  again  I 
ril  ay  cd1  in  by  yon  town, 

And  see  my  bonie  Jean  again. 

There 's  nane  shall  ken,  there 's  nane  can  guess 

What  brings  me  back  the  gate  again, 
But  she,  my  fairest  faithfu'  lass, 

And  stownlins  we  shall  meet  again. 

She'll  wander  by  the  aiken  tree, 

When  trystin  time  draws  near  again  ; 
And  when  her  lovely  form  I  see, 

O,  haith  !   she's  doubly  dear  again. 


94 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  100.    Behold,  my  love,  how  green  the  groves. 

Tune  :  On  the  cold  ground.         Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1665. 
Slowly 


-o-  n   v. 


Be-hold,  my  love,  how  green  the  groves,  The  prim-rose  banks  how    fair ! 


The  bal  -  my  gales    a  -  wake  the  flowers,  and  wave   thy  flax  -  en      hair. 

iv  p  a v 


The     lav1 -rock  shuns  the  pa- lace    gay,    And    o'er    the  cot-tage     sings: 


For     Na  -  ture  smiles  as  sweet,  I  ween,  To     shep  -  herds  as    to      kings. 


BEHOLD,  my  love,  how  green  the  groves, 

The  primrose  banlcs  how  fair  ! 
The  balmy  gales  awake  the  flowers, 

And  wave  thy  flaxen  hair. 
The  lav'rock  shuns  the  palace  gay, 

And  o'er  the  cottage  sings  : 
For  Nature  smiles  as  sweet,  I  ween. 

To  shepherds  as  to  kings. 

Let  minstrels  sweep  the  skilfu'  string 

In  lordly,  lighted  ha'  ; 
The  shepherd  stops  his  simple  reed, 

Blythe  in  the  birken  shaw. 
The  princely  revel  may  survey 

Our  rustic  dance  wi'  scorn  ; 
But  are  their  hearts  as  light  as  ours, 

Beneath  the  milk-white  thorn? 

The  shepherd  in  the  flowery  glen, 

In  shepherd's  phrase  will  woo  : 
The  courtier  tells  a  finer  tale  — 

But  is  his  heart  as  true? 
These  wild-wood  flowers  I  Ve  pu'd,  to  deck 

That  spotless  breast  o'  thine  : 
The  courtiers'  gems  may  witness  love  — 

But,  'tis  na  love  like  mine  ! 


I.     LOVE  I    PERSONAL 


95 


No.  101.   'Twas  na  her  bonie  bhie  ee  was  my  ridn. 

Tune  :  Laddie  lie  near  me  (see  No.  142). 

TWAS  na  her  bonie  blue  e'e  was  my  ruin, 
Fair  tho'  she  be,  that  was  ne'er  my  undoin' : 
'Twas  the  dear  smile  when  naebody  did  mind  us, 
'Twas  the  bewitching,  sweet,  stown  glance  o'  kindness. 

Sair  do  I  fear  that  to  hope  is  denied  me, 
Sair  do  I  fear  that  despair  maun  abide  me ; 
But  tho'  fell  Fortune  should  fate  us  to  sever, 
Queen  shall  she  be  in  my  bosom  for  ever. 

Chloris,  I'm  thine  wi'  a  passion  sincerest, 
And  thou  hast  plighted  me  love  o'  the  dearest, 
And  thou'rt  the  angel  that  never  can  alter — 
Sooner  the  sun  in  his  motion  would  falter ! 


No.  1 02.    (9,  poortith  caiild  and  restless  love. 

Tune  :  Cauld  kail  (see  No.  228). 

O,  POORTITH  cauld  and  restless  love, 
Ye  wrack  my  peace  between  ye; 

Yet  poortith  a'  I  could  forgive, 
An  'twere  na  for  my  Jeanie. 

CHORUS.     O,  why  should  Fate  sic  pleasure  have 

Life's  dearest  bands  untwining? 
Or  why  sae  sweet  a  flower  as  love 
Depend  on  Fortune's  shining  ? 

The  warld's  wealth  when  I  think  on 

Its  pride,  and  a'  the  lave  o't ; 
My  curse  on  silly  coward  man, 

That  he  should  be  the  slave  o't! 

Her  een  sae  bonie  blue  betray 

How  she  repays  my  passion  ; 
But  prudence  is  her  o'erword  ay, 

She  talks  o'  rank  and  fashion. 

O,  wha  can  prudence  think  upon, 

And  sic  a  lassie  by  him  ? 
O,  wha  can  prudence  think  upon, 

And  sae  in  love,  as  I  am? 

How  blest  the  wild-wood  Indian's  fate  ! 

He  woos  his  artless  dearie  ; 
The  silly  bogles,  wealth  and  state, 

Can  never,  make  him  eerie. 


96 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  103.   Now  Nature  deeds  the  flowery  lea. 

Tune  :  Rothiemurchi  s  rant,         Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  P-  42- 
Slow    tr 


CHORUS.  Las  -  sie    ivf  the  lint-white  locks,  Bo  -  nie  las  -  si'e,    art  -  less  las  -  st'e, 
tr  ^  s  Fine. 


Wilt  thou  wi1   me  tent  the  flocks— Wilt  thou  be    my  dear  -  ie,     O?      Now 


Na-ture  deeds  the  flow- ery  lea,    And      a'    is  young  and  sweet  like  thee,  O, 
tr  D.  C. 


wilt  thou  share  its  joys   wi'  me,  And    say  thou' It  be     my    dear-ie,    O? 


CHORUS.     Lassie  wi'  the  lint-white  locks, 

Bonie  lassie,  artless  lassie, 
Wilt  thou  w?  me  tent  the  flocks — 
Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie,  O  ? 

Now  Nature  deeds  the  flowery  lea, 
And  a'  is  young  and  sweet  like  thee, 
O,  wilt  thou  share  its  joys  wi1  me, 
And  say  thou'lt  be  my  dearie,  O  ? 

The  primrose  bank,  the  wimpling  burn, 
The  cuckoo  on  the  milk-white  thorn, 
The  wanton  lambs  at  early  morn 
Shall  welcome  thee,  my  dearie,  O. 

And  when  the  welcome  simmer  shower 
Has  cheer'd  ilk  drooping  little  flower, 
We'll  to  the  breathing  woodbine-bower 
At  sultry  noon,  my  dearie,  O. 

When  Cynthia  lights,  wi'  silver  ray, 
The  weary  shearer's  hameward  way, 
Thro*  yellow  waving  fields  we'll  stray, 
And  talk  o'  love,  my  dearie,  O. 

And  when  the  howling  wintry  blast 
Disturbs  my  lassie's  midnight  rest, 
Enclasped  to  my  faithfu'  breast, 
I'll  comfort  thee,  my  dearie,  O. 


I.     LOVE  :    PERSONAL 


97 


No.  104.    Come,  let  me  take  thee  to  my  breast. 

Tune  :  Cauld  Kail  (see  No.  2^). 

COME,  let  me  take  thee  to  my  breast, 

And  pledge  we  ne'er  shall  sunder, 
And  I  shall  spurn  as  vilest  dust 

The  world's  wealth  and  grandeur; 
And  do  I  hear  my  Jeanie  own 

That  equal  transports  move  her? 
I  ask  for  dearest  life  alone, 

That  I  may  live  to  love  her. 

Thus  in  my  arms,  wi'  a'  her  charms, 

I  clasp  my  countless  treasure, 
I'll  seek  nae  mair  o'  heav'n  to  share 

Than  sic  a  moment's  pleasure  : 
And  by  thy  een  sae  bonie  blue 

I  swear  I'm  thine  for  ever, 
And  on  thy  lips  I  seal  my  vow, 

And  break  it  shall  I  never  ! 


No.  105.    Forlorn  my  love,  no  comfort  near. 

Tune  :  Let  me  in  this  ae  night  (see  No.  159). 

FORLORN  my  love,  no  comfort  near, 

Far,  far  from  thee  I  wander  here ; 

Far,  far  from  thee,  the  fate  severe, 

At  which  I  most  repine,  love. 

CHORUS.     O,  wert  thou,  love,  but  near  me, 
But  near,  near,  near  me, 
How  kindly  thou  would' 'st  cheer  me, 

And  mingle  sighs  with  mine,  love  I 
Around  me  scowls  a  wintry  sky, 
Blasting  each  bud  of  hope  and  joy, 
And  shelter,  shade,  nor  home  have  I 
Save  in  these  arms  of  thine,  love. 

Cold,  alter'd  friends,  with  cruel  art, 
Poisoning  fell  misfortune's  dart — 
Let  me  not  break  thy  faithful  heart, 
And  say  that  fate  is  mine,  love.    . 

But  dreary  tho'  the  moments  fleet, 
O,  let  me  think  we  yet  shall  meet ; 
That  only  ray  of  solace  sweet 
Can  on  thy  Chloris  shine,  love. 


8  TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 

No.  1 06.    Now  haply  down  yon  gay  green  shaiv. 

Tune:  /'//  gae  nae  mair  to  yon  town  (see  No.  99). 

CHORUS.     O,  wat  ye  wha  's  in  yon  town. 
Ye  see  the  e^enin  sun  upon  ? 
The  dearest  maid 's  in  yon  town 
That  e^enin  sun  is  shining  on ! 

Now  haply  down  yon  gay  green  shaw 
She  wanders  by  yon  spreading  tree ; 

How  blest  ye  flowers  that  round  her  blaw, 
Ye  catch  the  glances  o'  her  e'e ! 

How  blest  ye  birds  that  round  her  sing, 
And  welcome  in  the  blooming  year ! 

And  doubly  welcome  be  the  spring, 
The  season  to  my  Jeanie  dear ! 

The  sun  blinks  blythe  in  yon  town, 
Among  the  broomy  braes  sae  green  ; 

But  my  delight  in  yon  town, 

And  dearest  pleasure,  is  my  Jean. 

Without  my  Love,  not  a'  the  charms 

O'  Paradise  could  yield  me  joy ; 
But  gie  me  Jeanie  in  my  arms, 

And  welcome  Lapland's  dreary  sky  ! 

My  cave  wad  be  a  lover's  bower, 

Tho'  raging  winter  rent  the  air, 
And  she  a  lovely  little  flower, 

That  I  wad  tent  and  shelter  there. 

O,  sweet  is  she  in  yon  town 

The  sinkm  sun  's  gane  down  upon  ! 
A  fairer  than 's  in  yon  town 

His  setting  beam  ne'er  shone  upon. 

If  angry  fate  be  sworn  my  foe, 

And  suff'ring  I  am  doom'd  to  bear ; 

I'd  careless  quit  aught  else  below, 
But  spare,  O,  spare  me  Jeanie  dear! 

For,  while  life's  dearest  blood  is  warm, 
Ae  thought  frae  her  shall  ne'er  depart, 

And  she,  as  fairest  is  her  form, 
She  has  the  truest,  kindest  heart. 


I.     LOVE:    PERSONAL 


99 


No.  107.    It  was  the  charming  month  of  May. 

Tune  :  Dainty  Davie  (see  infra). 

CHORUS.     Lovely  was  she  by  the  dawn. 

Youthful  Chloe,  charming  Chloe, 
Tripping  o'er  the  pearly  lawn, 
The  youthful,  charming  Chloe. 

IT  was  the  charming  month  of  May, 
When  all  the  flowVs  were  fresh  and  gay, 
One  morning,  by  the  break  of  day, 

The  youthful,  charming  Chloe, 
From  peaceful  slumber  she  arose, 
Girt  on  her  mantle  and  her  hose, 
And  o'er  the  flow'ry  mead  she  goes  — 

The  youthful,  charming  Chloe — 

The  feather' d  people  you  might  see 
Perch'd  all  around  on  every  tree ! 
In  notes  of  sweetest  melody 

They  hail  the  charming  Chloe 
Till,  painting  gay  the  eastern  skies, 
The  glorious  sun  began  to  rise, 
Out-rivall'd  by  the  radiant  eyes 

Of  youthful,  charming  Chloe. 


No.  1 08.    Let  not  woman  eer  complain, 

Tune  :  Duncan  Gray  (see  No.  173). 

LET  not  woman  e'er  complain 

Of  inconstancy  in  love ; 
Let  not  woman  e'er  complain, 

Fickle  man  is  apt  to  rove : 
Look  abroad  through  Nature's  range, 
Nature's  mighty  law  is  change ; 
Ladies,  would  it  not  be  strange 

Man  should  then  a  monster  prove? 

Mark  the  winds,  and  mark  the  skies, 
Ocean's  ebb  and  ocean's  flow. 

Sun  and  moon  but  set  to  rise  ; 
Round  and  round  the  seasons  go. 

Why,  then,  ask  of  silly  man 

To  oppose  great  Nature's  plan? 

We'll  be  constant  while  we  can — 
You  can  be  no  more,  you  know. 
H  a 


100 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  109.    Where  are  the  joys  I  hae  met  in 
the  morning. 

Tune  :  Saw  ye  my  father1?        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  76. 
Slow  and  pointed 


Where  are  the    joys       I      hae    met    in      the      morning,  That  danc'd 


to     the    lark's  ear-ly  sang?  Where    is     the    peace  that  a    -    wait  - 


ed      my    wand'-ring    At      e'en  -    ing    the        wild    woods  a  -  mang? 

WHERE  are  the  joys  I  hae  met  in  the  morning, 

That  danc'd  to  the  lark's  early  sang? 
Where  is  the  peace  that  awaited  my  wand'ring 

At  e'ening  the  wild  woods  amang? 

Nae  mair  a-winding  the  course  o*  yon  river 

And  marking  sweet  flow' rets  sae  fair, 
Nae  mair  I  trace  the  light  footsteps  o'  pleasure, 

But  sorrow  and  sad  sighing  care. 

Is  it  that  Summer's  forsaken  our  vallies, 

And  grim,  surly  Winter  is  near? 
No,  no,  the  bees  humming  round  the  gay  roses 

Proclaim  it  the  pride  o'  the  year ! 

Fain  would  I  hide  what  I  fear  to  discover, 
Yet  lang,  lang,  too  well  hae  I  known  : 

A'  that  has  caused  the  wreck  in  my  bosom, 
Is  Jenny,  fair  Jenny  alone. 

Time  cannot  aid  me,  my  griefs  are  immortal, 

Not  Hope  dare  a  comfort  bestow : 
Come  then,  enamour'd  and  fond  of  my  anguish, 

Enjoyment  I'll  seek  in  my  woe. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


IOI 


II.   LOVE— GENERAL 


No.  no.    My  Sandy  gied  to  me  a  ring. 

Tune  :  /  love  my  love  in  secret.         McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  p.  4. 
Smoothly 


My        San  -  dy  gied  to    me     a     ring  Was    a'    be  -  set  wi'    diamonds 

tr 


fine ;    But         I        gied      him        a  far      bet  •  ter  thing,  I      gied       my 

tr  CHORUS.  tr 


heart       in     pledge  o'    his  ring.      My      San  -  dy      O,     my    San  •  dy     O, 
tr 


My         ban  -  t'e,      bon-ie    San-dy    O;  Tho1  the   love    that   I    owe       to 
tr  tr 


2^3 


thee  1  dare  na  show^  Yet  I    love  my  love  in    se  •  cret^  my  San  -  dy     O ! 

MY  Sandy  gied  to  me  a  ring 
Was  a'  beset  wi'  diamonds  fine  ; 
But  I  gied  him  a  far  better  thing, 
I  gied  my  heart  in  pledge  o'  his  ring. 

CHORUS.     My  Sandy  O,  -my  Sandy  O, 
My  bom'e,  bonie  Sandy  O; 
Tho"1  the  love  that  I  owe  to  thee  I  dare  na  show. 
Yet  I  love  my  love  in  secret,  my  Sandy  O  / 

My  Sandy  brak  a  piece  o'  gowd, 

While  down  his  cheeks  the  saut  tears  row'd, 

He  took  a  hauf,  and  gied  it  to  me, 

And  I'll  keep  it  till  the  hour  I  die. 


102 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  in.    There's  nought  but  care  on  evry  hari . 

Tune  :  Green  grow  the  rashes,  O.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  77. 
Lively 


CHORUS.  Green  grow  the  rash-es,     O!      Green  grow    the  rash -es,     O!     The 

Fine. 


-*-r 


sweet- est  hours  that    ere     I  spend,  Are  spent  a  •  mang  the  las  •  sies^    O! 


There's  nought  but  care  on    ev-  'ry  han',  In     ev  -  'ry  hour  that  passes,    O ;  What 


What 
D.C. 


sig-ni-fies  the    life     o'  man,  An  'twere  na  for    the    las  -  sies,     O? 


CHORUS.     Green  grow  the  rashes,   O! 
Green  grow  the  rashes,  Ol 
The  sweetest  hours  that  e'er  I  spend, 
Are  spent  amang  the  lasses,  O! 

THERE'S  nought  but  care  on  ev'ry  han', 

In  ev'ry  hour  that  passes,  O  ; 
What  signifies  the  life  o'  man, 

An  'twere  na  for  the  lasses,  O  ? 

The  warl'y  race  may  riches  chase, 
An'  riches  still  may  fly  them,  O  ; 

An'  tho'  at  last  they  catch  them  fast, 
Their  hearts  can  ne'er  enjoy  them,  O. 

But  gie  me  a  cannie  hour  at  e'en, 

My  arms  about  my  dearie,  O  ; 
An'  warl'y  cares,  an'  warl'y  men, 

May  a'  gae  tapsalteerie,  O  1 

For  you  sae  douce,  ye  sneer  at  this, 
Ye're  nought  but  senseless  asses,  O  ; 

The  wisest  man  the  warl'  saw, 
He  dearly  lov'd  the  lasses,  O  ! 

Auld  Nature  swears,  the  lovely  dears 
Her  noblest  work  she  classes,   O  : 

Her  prentice  han'  she  tried  on  man, 
An'  then  she  made  the  lasses,  O. 


II.     LOVE  !    GENERAL 


103 


No.  112.    (9,  whar  gat  ye  that  haiiver-meal 
bannock  ? 

Tune  :  Adew  Dundee.         Skene  MS.  c.  1630. 
Moderate  time 


har  gat     ye      that    hauv-er  -  meal  ban-nock?1 'O     sil  -  ly  blind 


,       O        din  -  na     ye        see?  I      gat     it       frae 


a   young, 


brisk  sod-ger    lad  -  die,  Between  Saint  Johnston  and  bo  -  nie  Dun-dee. 


j*f-  W*-  -     9        9—  -r— 


O,      gin       I      saw      the     lad  -  die    that    gae  me't !       Aft    has     he 


doudl'd  me     up        on      his    knee ;      May  heav'n  pro-tect      my    bon  -  ie  Scots 


lad  -  die,    And  send   him    safe  hame    to      his       ba  -  bie    and     me  ! 

*  O,  WHAR  gat  ye  that  hauver-meal  bannock  ? ' 

'  O  silly  blind  body,  O  dinna  ye  see  ? 
I  gat  it  frae  a  young,  brisk  sodger  laddie, 

Between  Saint  Johnston  and  bonie  Dundee. 
O,  gin  I  saw  the  laddie  that  gae  me't ! 

Aft  has  he  doudl'd  me  up  on  his  knee  ; 
May  Heaven  protect  my  bonie  Scots  laddie, 
And  send  him  safe  hame  to  his  babie  and  me ! 

'  My  blessins  upon  thy  sweet  wee  lippie  ! 

My  blessins  upon  thy  bonie  e'e-brie  ! 
Thy  smiles  are  sae  like  my  blythe  sodger  laddie, 

Thou 's  ay  the  dearer  and  dearer  to  me ! 
But  I'll  big  a  bow'r  on  yon  bonie  banks, 

Whar  Tay  rins  wimplin  by  sae  clear ; 
And  I'll  deed  thee  in  the  tartan  sae  fine, 

And  mak  thee  a  man  like  thy  daddie  dear.' 


104 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  1 1 3.   Now  simmer  blinks  on  flowry  braes. 

Tune  :  The  Birks  of  Abergeldie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  113. 

Lively 


CHORUS.  Bon  •  ie    las  -  stet  will    ye     go^ 


Bon  -  ie  las  -  sie,  will  ye   go      To    the      birks    of     A  -  ber-feld 


Now     sim-mer  blinks  on   flow-' ry  braes,  And    o'er  the  crys-tal    stream  -  lets 

D.C. 


plays,  Come,  let    us  spend  the  lightsome  days  In  the    birks  of    A  -  her  -  feld  -  y. 

CHORUS.  Bonie  lassie,  will  ye  go, 
Will  ye  go,  will  ye  go  ? 
Bonie  lassie,  will  ye  go 

To  the  birks  of  Aberfeldy? 

Now  simmer  blinks  on  fiow'ry  braes, 
And  o'er  the  crystal  streamlets  plays, 
Come,  let  us  spend  the  lightsome  days 
In  the  birks  of  Aberfeldy. 

The  little  birdies  blythely  sing, 
While  o'er  their  heads  the  hazels  hing, 
Or  lightly  flit  on  wanton  wing 
In  the  birks  of  Aberfeldy. 

The  braes  ascend  like  lofty  wa's, 
The  foaming  stream,  deep-roaring,  fa's 
O'erhung  wi'  fragrant  spreading  shaws, 
The  birks  of  Aberfeldy. 

The  hoary  cliffs  are  crown'd  wi'  flowers, 
White  o'er  the  linns  the  burnie  pours, 
And,  rising,  weets  wi'  misty  showers 
The  birks  of  Aberfeldy. 

Let  Fortune's  gifts  at  random  flee, 
They  ne'er  shall  draw  a  wish  frae  me, 
Supremely  blest  wi'  love  and  thee, 
In  the  birks  of  Aberfeldy. 


I 


II.     LOVE  !    GENERAL 


No.  114.    As  I  gaed  down  the  water-side. 

Tune:  Co1  the y owes.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790?  No.  264. 

Slow 


Ca'    the  yowes      to     the  knowes,  Ca'  them  whare  the    heath  -  er  grows, 


dear  -  ie. 


CHORUS.     Ca'  the  yowes  to  the  knowes, 

Ca'  them  whare  the  heather  growSj 
Ca'  them  whare  the  burnie  rowes, 
My  bonie  dearie. 

As  I  gaed  down  the  water-side, 
There  I  met  my  shepherd  lad  : 
He  row'd  me  sweetly  in  his  plaid, 
An  he  ca'd  me  his  dearie. 

'  Will  ye  gang  down  the  water-side, 
And  see  the  waves  sae  sweetly  glide 
Beneath  the  hazels  spreading  wide  ? 
The  moon  it  shines  fu*  clearly.' 

'I  was  bred  up  in  nae  sic  school, 
My  shepherd  lad  to  play  the  fool, 
And  a'  the  day  to  sit  in  dool, 
And  nae  body  to  see  me.' 

'  Ye  sail  get  gowns  and  ribbons  meet, 
Cauf-leather  shoon  upon  your  feet, 
And  in  my  arms  thou'lt  lie  and  sleep, 
An'  ay  sail  be  my  dearie.' 

*  If  ye'll  but  stand  to  what  ye've  said, 

I'se  gang  wi'  you  my  shepherd  lad, 

And  ye  may  row  me  in  your  plaid, 

And  I  sail  be  your  dearie.' 

'  While  waters  wimple  to  the  sea, 
While  day  blinks  in  the  lift  sae  hie, 
Till  clay-cauld  death  sail  blin'  my  e'e, 
Ye  sail  be  my  dearie.' 


io6 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  115,    On  a  bank  of  flowers  in  a  summer  day. 

Tune  :   The  bashful  lover.         Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1729,  i.  p.  30. 
Gracefully  . 


On  a  bank  of  flowers  in     a    summer  day,  For  summer  light  -  ly    drest, 


The   youthful,  blooming    Nel  -  ly  lay  With  love  and  sleep  op  -  prest ;     When 


Willie,  wand' ring  through  the  wood,  Who  for  her    fa  -  vour     oft  had  sued  ;    He 


J/.-4-V     l^-^^^11^^ — ^i  I  T^     r^l     I     P~\-* — -m — * 

iB^^ffi*9^^B=^3^  tf=r=F 


gaz'd,     he    wish'd,     he       fear'd,     he  blush'd,  And  trembled  where  he  stood. 

ON  a  bank  of  flowers  in  a  summer  day, 

For  summer  lightly  drest, 
The  youthful,  blooming  Nelly  lay 

With  love  and  sleep  opprest ; 
When  Willie,  wand'ring  through  the  wood, 

Who  for  her  favour  oft  had  sued  ; 
He  gaz'd,  he  wish'd,  he  fear'd,  he  blush'd, 

And  trembled  where  he  stood. 

Her  closed  eyes,  like  weapons  sheath'd, 

Were  seal'd  in  soft  repose  ; 
Her  lips,  still  as  she  fragrant  breath'd, 

It  richer  dyed  the  rose ; 
The  springing  lilies,  sweetly  prest, 

Wild-wanton  kiss'd  her  rival  breast ; 
He  gaz'd,  he  wish'd,  he  fear'd,  he  blush'd, 

His  bosom  ill  at  rest. 

Her  robes,  light-waving  in  the  breeze, 

Her  tender  limbs  embrace  ; 
Her  lovely  form,  her  native  ease, 

All  harmony  and  grace. 
Tumultuous  tides  his  pulses  roll, 

A  faltering,  ardent  kiss  he  stole ; 
He  gaz'd,  he  wish'd,  he  fear'd,  he  blush'd, 

And  sigh'd  his  very  soul. 


II.  LOVE  :  GENERAL 


I07 


As  flies  the  partridge  from  the  brake 

On  fear-inspired  wings, 
So  Nelly  starting,  half-awake, 

Away  affrighted  springs  ; 
But  Willie  follow'd— as  he  should  ; 

He  overtook  her  in  the  wood  ; 
He  vow'd,  he  pray'd,  he  found  the  maid 

Forgiving  all,  and  good. 


No.  1 1 6.    When  rosy  May  comes  in  wi  flowers. 

Tune  :   The  gardener's  march.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  220. 
Slow  and  pointed 


When  ro-  sy  May  comes  in  wi1  flowers  To  deck  her  gay,  green-spreading  bowers, 

tr 


Then  bu  -  sy,  bu  -  sy  are    his  hours — ,The  gard'ner       wi'    his      pai-dle.     The 

* 


crystal    wa-ters      gently    fa',    The      merry  birds  are       lo  -    vers      a',   The 

1^^       tr 


scented  breezes  round  him  blaw — The        gard'ner         wi'        his         pai-dle. 


WHEN  rosy  May  comes  in  wi'  flowers, 
To  deck  her  gay,  green -spreading  bowers, 
Then  busy,  busy  are  his  hours — 

The  gard'ner  wi'  his  paidle. 
The  crystal  waters  gently  fa', 
The  merry  birds  are  lovers  a', 
The  scented  breezes  round  him  blaw — 

The  gard'ner  wi'  his  paidle. 

When  purple  morning  starts  the  hare 

To  steal  upon  her  early  fare ; 

Then  through  the  dew  he  maun  repair — 

The  gard'ner  wi'  his  paidle. 
When  day,  expiring  in  the  west, 
The  curtain  draws  o'  Nature's  rest, 
He  flies  to  her  arms  he  lo'es  best — 

The  gard'ner  wi'  his  paidle.     • 


io8 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  117.    If  thou  should  ask  my  love. 

Tune  :  Jamie,  come  try  me.       Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745,  ii.  p.  34. 

Slowly  ^  if 


CHORUS.  Ja-mie,  come        try        me^    Ja-mie^  come         try      me  ;  If  thou  -would 

p  tr    Fine. 


win     my    love^    Ja  •  mie^    come  try        me.        If       thou      should 


ask       my      love,     Could         I  de      -      ny  thee?  If 


thou  would     win      my    love,          Ja     -     mie,         come 


try        me. 


CHORUS.         Jamie,  come  try  me, 
Jamie,  come  try  me; 
If  thou  would  win  my  love, 
Jamie,  come  try  me. 


If  thou  should  ask  my  love, 
Could  I  deny  thee? 

If  thou  would  win  my  love, 
Jamie,  come  try  me. 


If  thou  should  kiss  me,  love, 
Wha  could  espy  thee? 

If  thou  wad  be  my  love, 
Jamie,  come  try  me. 


No.  1 1 8.    Hark  the  mavis   eening  sang. 

Tune  :  Co1  the y owes  (see  No.  114). 

CHORUS.     Co1  the  yowes  to  the  knowes, 

Co*  them  where  the  heather  grows, 
Co1  them,  where  the  burnie  rowes, 
My  bonie  dearie. 


HARK,  the  mavis'  e'ening  sang 
Sounding  Clouden's  woods  amang, 
Then  a-faulding  let  us  gang, 
My  bonie  dearie. 


We'll  gae  down  by  Clouden  side, 

Thro'  the  hazels,  spreading  wide 

O'er  the  waves  that  sweetly  glide 

To  the  moon  sae  clearly. 


II.     LOVE  I    GENERAL 


109 


Yonder  Clouden's  silent  towers 
Where,    at    moonshine's    midnight 


Ghaist  nor  bogle  shalt  thou  fear, 
Thou'rt  to   Love  and  Heav'n  sae 


dear, 

Nocht  of  ill  may  come  thee  near, 
My  bonie  dearie. 


hours, 

O'er  the  dewy  bending  flowers 
Fairies  dance  sae  cheery. 

Fair  and  lovely  as  thou  art, 
Thou  hast  stown  my  very  heart ; 
I  can  die — but  canna  part, 
My  bonie  dearie. 


No.  119.    When  the  drums  do  beat. 

Tune  :  The  Captain's  lady.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  233. 
Briskly 


CHORUS.      O,    mount  and  go.    Mount  and     make       ye         rea  •  dy;          O, 

Fine  -^ 


mount  and  go,  And    be  the  Captairi  s  la  -  dy  I      When  the    drums      do     beat, 


And  the    can  -  nons     rat  -  tie,  Thou  shalt   sit        in    state,  And  see  thy    love 


in         bat  -  tie.    When  the    drums      do     beat,      And  the      can  -  nons 

D.  C. 


rat  -  tie,    Thou  shalt  sit    in  state,  And    see    thy  love       in          bat  -  tie. 

CHORUS.     O,  mount  and  go, 

Mount  and  make  ye  ready ; 
O,  mount  and  go, 

And  be  the  Captains  lady  I 


WHEN  the  drums  do  beat, 
And  the  cannons  rattle, 

Thou  shalt  sit  in  state, 

And  see  thy  love  in  battle. 


bis 


When  the  vanquish'd  foe 

Sues  for  peace  and  quiet,  \    ,• 

To  the  shades  we'll  go, 
And  in  love  enjoy  it. 


no 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  1 20.    Young  Jockie  was  the  blythest  lad. 

Tune  :  Jockie  was  the  blythest  lad.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  287. 
Slowly  tr 


e 


Young     Jock     -     ie  was  the     blyth    -    est          lad,      In 

tr 


-f  N  _-^      '"?--^     r*r~i 

J^EjE-r-pizzg-         =£n:i#i:: 


our      town    or    here         a    -    wa ;     Fu'    blythe         he  whist    -     led 


at          the        gaud,    Fu'        light  -  ly      danc'd  he       in         the        ha'.       He 
ft 


roos'd      my       een      sae         bon    -     ie       blue,    He        roos'd         my     waist 


my        mou,  When      ne'er    .    .         a       bo  -  dy        heard  or         saw. 


YOUNG  Jockie  was  the  blythest  lad, 

In  a'  our  town  or  here  awa ; 
Fu'  blythe  he  whistled  at  the  gaud, 

Fu'  lightly  danc'd  he  in  the  ha'. 
He  roos'd  my  een  sae  bonie  blue, 

He  roos'd  my  waist  sae  genty  sma', 
An'  ay  my  heart  cam  to  my  mou, 

When  ne'er  a  body  heard  or  saw. 

My  Jockie  toils  upon  the  plain, 

Thro'  wind  and  weet,  thro'  frost  and  snaw ; 
And  o'er  the  lea  I  leuk  fu'  fain, 

When  Jockie 's  owsen  hameward  ca'. 
And  ay  the  night  conies  round  again, 

When  in  his  arms  he  taks  me  a' ; 
And  ay  he  vows  he'll  be  my  ain 

As  lang's  he  has  a  breath  to  draw. 


II.     LOVE  !    GENERAL 


III 


No.  121.  Sweet  are  the  banks — the  banks  o  Doon. 

(FIRST  VERSION.) 


Tune  :  Cambdelmore.         Bremner's  Reels,  1761,  p.  92. 
Slow 


Sweet  are  the  banks— the  banks  o1  Doon,  The  spreading  flowers  are  fair,  And 
tr 


every-thing  is  blythe  and  glad,  But  I  am    fu'  o'  care.  Thou'll  break  my  heart, 


thou  bo-nie  bird,  That  sings  up-on  the  bough  !  Thou  minds  me  o1  the  hap-py  days 


When  my  fauseLuvewas  true :  Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  bo-nie  bird  That  sings 
tr 


be-side  thy  mate,  For  sae    I    sat,  and  sae    I  sang,  And  wist  na  o'  my  fate. 


SWEET  are  the  banks — the  banks  o'  Doon, 

The  spreading  flowers  are  fair, 
And  everything  is  blythe  and  glad, 

But  I  am  fu'  o'  care. 
Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  bonie  bird 

That  sings  upon  the  bough  ! 
Thou  minds  me  o'  the  happy  days 

When  my  fause  Luve  was  true : 
Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  bonie  bird 

That  sings  beside  thy  mate, 
For  sae  I  sat,  and  sae  I  sang, 

And  wist  na  o'  my  fate ! 

Aft  hae  I  rov'd  by  bonie  Doon 

To  see  the  woodbine  twine, 
And  ilka  bird  sang  o'  its  Luve, 

And  sae  did  I  o'  mine. 
Wi'  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose 

Upon  its  thorny  tree, 
But  my  fause  luver  staw  my  rose, 

And  left  the  thorn  wi'  me  : 
Wi'  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose 

Upon  a  morn  in  June, 
And  sae  I  flourished  on  the  morn, 

And  sae  was  pu'd  or  noon. 


112 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  122.    Ye  flowery  banks  o    bonie  Doon. 

(SECOND  VERSION.) 
See  Tune  :  Ballendalloch's  Reel,  or  Cambdelmore  (see  No.  121). 

YE  flowery  banks  o1  bonie  Doon, 

How  can  ye  blume  sae  fair? 
How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds, 

And  I  sae  fu'  o'  care? 

Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  bonie  bird 

That  sings  upon  the  bough  : 
Thou  minds  me  o'  the  happy  days 

When  my  fause  Luve  was  true  ! 

Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  bonie  bird 

That  sings  beside  thy  mate  ; 
For  sae  I  sat,  and  sae  I  sang, 

And  wist  na  o'  my  fate. 

Aft  hae  I  rov'd  by  bonie  Doon 

To  see  the  woodbine  twine, 
And  ilka  bird  sang  o'  its  Luve, 

And  sae  did  I  o'  mine. 

Wi'  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose 

Frae  aff  its  thorny  tree  ; 
And  my  fause  luver  staw  my  rose, 

But  left  the  thorn  wi'  me. 


No.  123.    Ye  banks  and  braes  o    bonie  Doon. 

(THIRD  VERSION.) 

Tune  :  Caledonian  Hunt's  delight.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  374. 
Slow 

* 


Ye     banks  and  braes    o'  bon    •    ie       Doon,    How        can         ye 


bloom  sae     fresh    and  fair?  How  can    ye  chant, ye      lit    -    tie    birds,  And 

I 


sae    wea  -  ry         fu1      o1  care !  Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  warb-ling 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


bird,    That      wan  -  tons     thro'      the      flower  •  ing  thorn  :  Thou  minds  me 


o1      de    -   part  -  ed      joys,     De   -    part  -  ed      nev   -  er         to         re-turn ! 


YE  banks  and  braes  o'  bonie  Doon, 

How  can  ye  bloom  sae  fresh  and  fair? 
How  can  ye  chant,  ye  little  birds, 

And  I  sae  weary  fu'  o'  care ! 
Thou'll  break  my  heart,  thou  warbling  bird, 

That  wantons  thro'  the  flowering  thorn  : 
Thou  minds  me  o1  departed  joys, 

Departed  never  to  return  ! 

Aft  hae  I  roved  by  bonie  Doon 

To  see  the  rose  and  woodbine  twine, 
And  ilka  bird  sang  o'  its  Luve, 

And  fondly  sae  did  I  o'  mine  ; 
Wi1  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose, 

Fu'  sweet  upon  its  thorny  tree ! 
And  my  fause  luver  staw  my  rose — 

But  ah  !   he  left  the  thorn  wi'  me. 


No.  124.    (9,  si  ay,  sweet  warbling  wood  lark,  stay. 

Tune  :  Whare  shall  our  gudeman  lie  (see  No.  10). 

O,  STAY,  sweet  warbling  woodlark,  stay, 
Nor  quit  for  me  the  trembling  spray! 
A  hapless  lover  courts  thy  lay, 

Thy  soothing,  fond  complaining. 
Again,  again  that  tender  part, 
That  I  may  catch  thy  melting  art  ! 
For  surely  that  wad  touch  her  heart 

Wha  kills  me  wi'  disdaining. 

Say,  was  thy  little  mate  unkind, 

And  heard  thee  as  the  careless  wind  ? 

O,  nocht  but  love  and  sorrow  join'd 

Sic  notes  o'  woe  could  wauken  1 
Thou  tells  o1  never-ending  care, 
O'  speechless  grief  and  dark  despair — 
For  pity's  sake,  sweet  bird,  nae  mair, 

Or  my  poor  heart  is  broken  ! 
i 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  125.    O,  saw  ye  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McNab  ? 

Tune  :  Eppie  McNab.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  336. 
Slow 


O,       saw    ye         my        dear  -  ie,     my     Ep  -  pie     M<=    -    Nab  ?      O, 


iw    ye        my         dear  -   ie,       my         Ep  -  pie     Mc  -  Nab ;  '  She 's     down 


in        the          yard,    she's  kiss -in      the      laird,     She       win  -  na  come  hame 


to         her  ain         Jock    Rab ! '          O,      come  thy  ways     to    me,   my 


_ 
Ep    -    pie         Mc  -  Nab !          O      come    thy    ways     to      me,    my       Ep 


pie       Mc  -  Nab!   What  -  e'er  thou  has  done,  be    it       late,        be          it 


soon,  Thou 's  wel  -  come     a     -     gain         to         thy         ain          Jock    Rab ! 

O,  SAW  ye  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McNab  ? 
O,  saw  ye  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McNab? 

'  She  's  down  in  the  yard,  she  's  kissin  the  laird, 
She  winna  come  hame  to  her  ain  Jock  Rab.' 

O,  come  thy  ways  to  me,  my  Eppie  McNab ! 
O,  come  thy  ways  to  me,  my  Eppie  McNab ! 

Whate'er  thou  has  done,  be  it  late,  be  it  soon, 
Thou's  welcome  again  to  thy  ain  Jock  Rab. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


What  says  she,  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McNab? 
What  says  she,  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McNab? 

'  She  lets  thee  to  wit  that  she  has  thee  forgot, 
And  for  ever  disowns  thee,  her  ain  Jock  Rab.' 

O,  had  I  ne'er  seen  thee,  my  Eppie  McNab  ! 
O,  had  I  ne'er  seen  thee,  my  Eppie  McNab  ! 

As  light  as  the  air  and  as  fause  as  thou  's  fair, 
Thou 's  broken  the  heart  o'  thy  ain  Jock  Rab. 


No.  126.    By  love  and  by  beauty. 

Tune  :  Eppie  A dair.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  281. 
Slow 


CHORUS.   An?      O    my  Ep-pie,  My  jew  -  el,      my    Ep-pie:  Whawadnabe    happy 
Fine. 


Ep-pie     A  •  dair  ?    By    love    and  by  beau-ty,  By    law    and    by  du  -  ty, 


I      swear    to    be    true    to  My  Ep  -  pie  A  -  dair !  By  love    and  by  beauty,  By 

D.  C. 


law    and  by     du  -  ty,        I    swear  to  be  true  to  My  Ep  -  pie     A    -    dair ! 

CHORUS.     An?  O  my  Eppie, 

My  jewel,  my  Eppie ; 
Wha  wadna  be  happy 
W?  Eppie  Adair? 

BY  love  and  by  beauty, 
By  law  and  by  duty, 
I  swear  to  be  true  to 
My  Eppie  Adair ! 


A'  pleasure  exile  me,  \ 
Dishonour  defile  me,     (,. 
If  e'er  I  beguile  thee,  j    * 
My  Eppie  Adair  !      ' 


I  2 


Tl6 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  127.    O,  luve  will  venture  in. 

Tune  :  The  posie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  373. 
Moderate  time 


O,     luve  will  ven-ture  in  where  it    daur  na  weel  be    seen ;    O,      luve  will 


ven  ture  in,  where  wisdom  ance  hath  been ;   But     I    will  doun  yon  river  rove    a 

tr 


mang  the  wood  sae  green,  And       a'      to    pu'  a  po  -  sie  to  my    ain  dear  May  ! 

O,  LUVE  will  venture  in  where  it  daur  na  weel  be  seen  ; 
O,  luve  will  venture  in,  where  wisdom  ance  hath  been  ; 
But  I  will  dbun  yon  river  rove  amang  the  wood  sae  green, 
And  a'  to  pu'  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May! 

The  primrose  I  will  pu',  the  firstling  o'  the  year, 

And  I  will  pu'  the  pink,  the  emblem  o'  my  dear, 

For  she's  the  pink  o'  womankind,  and  blooms  without  a  peer — 

And  a'  to  be  a  posie>  to  my  ain  dear  May ! 

I'll  pu'  the  budding  rose  when  Phoebus  peeps  in  view, 
For  it's  like  a  baumy  kiss  o'  her  sweet,  bonie  mou'. 
The  hyacinth's  for  constancy  wi'  its  unchanging  blue  — 
And  a'  to  be  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May. 

The  lily  it  is  pure,  and  the  lily  it  is  fair, 
And  in  her  lovely  bosom  I'll  place  the  lily  there  ; 
The  daisy's  for  simplicity  and  unaffected  air — 
And  a'  to  be  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May. 

The  hawthorn  I  will  pu',  wi'  its  locks  o'  siller  gray, 
Where,  like  an  aged  man,  it  stands  at  break  o'  day ; 
But  the  songster's  nest  within  the  bush  I  winna  tak  away — 
And  a'  to  be  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May. 

The  woodbine  I  will  pu'  when  the  e'ening  star  is  near, 
And  the  diamond  draps  o'  dew  shall  be  her  een  sae  clear! 
The  violet's  for  modesty,  which  weel  she  fa's  to  wear — 
And  a'  to  be  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May. 

I'll  tie  the  posie  round  wi'  the  silken  band  o'  luve, 
And  I'll  place  it  in  her  breast,  and  I'll  swear  by  a'  above, 
That  to  my  latest  draught  o'  life  the  band  shall  ne'er  remove, 
And  this  will  be  a  posie  to  my  ain  dear  May. 


II.  LOVE:  GENERAL 


No.  128.   Let  loove  sparkle  in  her  ee. 

Tune  :  Jockey  fou  and  Jenny  fain.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  381. 


Lively 


Ith-ers     seek    they    ken  -  na  what,  Fea-tures,    car-riage,   and   a'     that; 


Gie  me  loove      in 


court,  Loove  to  loove  maks  a'    the  sport. 


Let  loove  spar  -  kle 


her     e'e,      Let  her    lo'e  nae  man  but  me ; 


That's  the    toch    -    er      gude  I  prize,  There  the    luv  -  er's       treasure    lies. 

[ITHERS  seek  they  kenna  what, 
Features,  carriage  and  a'  that ; 
Gie  me  loove  in  her  I  court — 
Loove  to  loove  maks  a'  the  sport.] 
Let  loove  sparkle  in  her  e'e, 
Let  her  lo'e  nae  man  but  me ; 
That's  the  tocher  gude  I  prize, 
There  the  luver's  treasure  lies. 


No.  129.    How  cruel  are  the  parents. 


Tune :  John  Anderson  my  jo  (see  No.  212). 

How  cruel  are  the  parents 

Who  riches  only  prize, 
And  to  the  wealthy  booby 

Poor  woman  sacrifice  ! 
Meanwhile  the  hapless  daughter 

Has  but  a  choice  of  strife  ; 
To  shun  a  tyrant  father's  hate 

Become  a  wretched  wife  ! 


The  ravening  hawk  pursuing, 

The  trembling  dove  thus  flies, 
To  shun  impelling  ruin 

Awhile  her  pinion  tries, 
Till,  of  escape  despairing, 

No  shelter  or  retreat, 
She  trusts  the  ruthless  falconer, 

And  drops  beneath  his  feet! 


n8 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  130.    The  smiling  Spring  comes  in  rejoicing. 

Tune  :  Bonie  Bell.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  387. 
Lively 


The    smil  -  ing  Spring  comes      in    re  -  joic  -  ing,  And    sur  -  ly    Win    -    ter 


grim  -  ly    flies  ;  Now  crys-tal  clear  are  the       fall-ing    wa  -  ters,  And    bon  -  ie 


blue    are    the    sun  •  ny  skies.    Fresh  o'er  the  mountains  breaks  forth  the  morn- 


ing,  The     ev'n  -  ing  gilds      the          o-cean's  swell ;  All    crea-tures  joy     in 


the       sun's    re  -  turn  -  ing,  And    I      re  -  joice    in      my    bon  -  ie    Bell. 

THE  smiling  Spring  comes  in  rejoicing. 

And  surly  Winter  grimly  flies  ; 
Now  crystal  clear  are  the  falling  waters, 

And  bonie  blue  are  the  sunny  skies. 
Fresh  o'er  the  mountains  breaks  forth  the  morning, 

The  ev'ning  gilds  the  ocean's  swell ; 
All  creatures  joy  in  the  sun's  returning, 
•    And  I  rejoice  in  my  bonie  Bell. 

The  flowery  Spring  leads  sunny  Summer, 

The  yellow  Autumn  presses  near ; 
Then  in  his  turn  comes  gloomy  Winter, 

Till  smiling  Spring  again  appear. 
Thus  seasons  dancing,  life  advancing, 

Old  Time  and  Nature  their  changes  tell ; 
But  never  ranging,   still  unchanging, 

I  adore  my  bonie  Bell. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


No.  131.    Where  Cart  rins  rowin  to  the  sea. 

Tune  :   The  gallant  weaver.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  389. 
Briskly 

tdtz 


Where  Cart     rins    row  •   in  to     the    sea      By    mon-ie     a   flower  and 


spreading  tree,  There  lives     a         lad,      the      lad         for     me —  He         is 
tr 


a    gal  -  lant        weav  -  er.         O,  I       had    woo  -  ers        aught      or 


nine,    They         gied    me  rings  and  rib-bons  fine,  And          I 


9    * 


fear'd  my  heart  wad  tine,  And    I        gied      it      to      the         weav  -  er. 


WHERE  Cart  rins  rowin  to  the  sea 
By  monie  a  flower  and  spreading  tree, 
There  lives  a  lad,  the  lad  for  me — 

He  is  a  gallant  weaver ! 
O,  I  had  wooers  aught  or  nine, 
They  gied  me  rings  and  ribbons  fine, 
And  I  was  fear'd  my  heart  wad  tine, 

And  I  gied  it  to  the  weaver. 

My  daddie  sign'd  my  tocher-band 
To  gie  the  lad  that  has  the  land  ; 
But  to  my  heart  I'll  add  my  hand, 

And  give  it  to  the  weaver. 
While  birds  rejoice  in  leafy  bowers, 
While  bees  delight  in  opening  flowers, 
While  corn  grows  green  in  summer  showers, 

I  love  my  gallant  weaver. 


120 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  132.    I  do  confess  thou  art  sae  fair. 

Tune  :  The  cuckoo.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  321. 
Moderately  quick 

a 


I  do       con  -  fess    thou       art       sae    fair,     I        wad    been    o'er 


the      lugs  in     luve,     Had         I         na    found  the       slight  -  est  prayer  That 


lips    could      speak  thy  heart  could  muve.     I      do  con  -  fess    thee  sweet,  but 


find  Thou          art        so  thrift  -  less         o'  thy  sweets,  Thy        fa  -  vours     are 


the  sil    -    ly      wind    That      kiss  -  es  il    -    ka    thing  it    meets. 

I  DO  confess  thou  art  sae  fair, 

I  wad  been  o'er  the  lugs  in  luve, 
Had  I  na  found  the  slightest  prayer 

That  lips  could  speak  thy  heart  could  muve. 
I  do  confess  thee  sweet,  but  find 

Thou  art  so  thriftless  o'  thy  sweets, 
Thy  favours  are  the  silly  wind 

That  kisses  ilka  thing  it  meets. 

See  yonder  rosebud  rich  in  dew, 

Amang  its  native  briers  sae  coy, 
How  sune  it  tines  its  scent  and  hue, 

When  pu'd  and  worn  a  common  toy ! 
Sic  fate  ere  lang  shall  thee  betide, 

Tho'  thou  may  gaily  bloom  a  while, 
And  sune  thou  shalt  be  thrown  aside, 

Like  onie  common  weed,  an'  vile. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


121 


No.  133.    Whare  live  ye,  my  bonie  lass? 

Tune  :  My  collier  laddie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  361. 
Gracefully 


'Whare  live        ye,        my          bon  -  ie      lass,     And      tell      me      what 


they  ca'         ye?'       'My       name,'  she    sa3's,  'is  Mis  -  tress 


Jean,  And    I  fol   -   low     the       Col    -      -    Her      Lad  -  die.' 

'  WHARE  live  ye,  my  bonie  lass, 

And  tell  me  what  they  ca'  ye  ? ' 
'My  name,'  she  says,  'is  Mistress  Jean,  )  ,. 

And  I  follow  the  Collier  Laddie.'  ) 

'  See  you  not  yon  hills  and  dales 

The  sun  shines  on  sae  brawlie  ? 
They  a'  are  mine,  and  they  shall  be  thine,  )  ,  . 

Gin  ye'll  leave  your  Collier  Laddie.  ) 


'An*  ye  shall  gang  in  gay  attire, 

Weel  buskit  up  sae  gaudy, 
And  ane  to  wait  on  every  hand, 

Gin  ye'll  leave  your  Collier  Laddie.' 


bis 


'Tho'  ye  had  a'  the  sun  shines  on, 

And  the  earth  conceals  sae  lowly, 
I  wad  turn  my  back  on  you  and  it  a',  )  , . 

And  embrace  my  Collier  Laddie.         } 

'  I  can  win  my  five  pennies  in  a  day, 

An'  spend  it  at  night  fu'  brawlie, 
And  make  my  bed  in  the  Collier's  neuk  )  , . 

And  lie  down  wi'  my  Collier  Laddie.   ) 

'Luve  for  luve  is  the  bargain  for  me, 
Tho'  the  wee  cot-house  should  haud  me, 

And  the  warld  before  me  to  win  my  bread —  )  ,  • 
And  fair  fa'  my  Collier  Laddie  ! '  1 


122 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  134.    In  simmer,  when  the  hay  was  mawn. 

Tune  :   The  country  lass.         Orpheus  Caledomus,  1733,  No.  38. 


Rather  slow 


In       sim  -  mer,  when  the        hay   was  mawn  And  corn  wav'd    green         in 


•ffo  J  J  ^f  -1C- 

IV 

"«~H~ 

_^..._r_^    -*'-^-^ 

-J^-^ 

^y 

,--, 

n 

S  "  " 

r        Ir         &                  * 

t7                                   -*L     -W-.- 
il   -    ka       field,  While    clav- 

=£    -—  --js-^=^: 

J- 

er  blooms 

P  

white  o'er    the    lea,      And      ro  -  ses 

•  F^^^^F**-^ 

•w—ff^-^- 

^    *  * 

**  J     J  *   * 

r^-J= 

blaw          in         il   -    ka      bield,      Blythe  Bes    -    sie         in      the    milk  -  ing 


shiel,    Says   'I'll     be   wed,    come    o't    what  will';  Out    spake    a    dame   in 


wrinkled    eild  :  — 


guid 


IN  simmer,  when  the  hay  was  mawn 
And  corn  wav'd  green  in  ilka  field, 

While  claver  blooms  white  o'er  the  lea, 
And  roses  blaw  in  ilka  bield, 
Blythe  Bessie  in  the  milking  shiel, 

Says  —  '  I'll  be  wed,  come  o't  what  will  '  ; 
Out  spake  a  dame  in  wrinkled  eild  :  — 

'  O'  guid  advisement  comes  nae  ill. 

'  It  's  ye  hae  wooers  mony  ane, 

And  lassie,  ye're  but  young,  ye  ken; 

Then  wait  a  wee,  and  cannie  wale 
A  routhie  butt,  a  routhie  ben  : 
There  's  Johnie  o'  the  Buskie-Glen, 

Fu'  is  his  barn,  fu'  is  his  byre  : 
Tak  this  frae  me,  my  bonie  hen  :  — 

It's  plenty  beets  the  luver's  fire.' 

'  For  Johnie  o'  the  Buskie-Glen 

I  dinna  care  a  single  flie  : 
He  lo'es  sae  weel  his  craps  and  kye, 

He  has  nae  hive  to  spare  for  me  : 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


I23 


But  blythe's  the  blink  o'  Robie's  e'e, 
And  weel  I  wat  he  lo'es  me  dear  : 

Ae  blink  o'  him  I  wadna  gie 
For  Buskie-Glen  and  a'  his  gear.' 

*  O  thoughtless  lassie,  life 's  a  faught ! 

The  canniest  gate,  the  strife  is  sair  ; 
But  ay  fu'-han  t  is  fechtin  best ; 

A  hungry  care 's  an  unco  care. 

But  some  will  spend,  and  some  will  spare, 
And  wilfu'  folk  maun  hae  their  will. 

Syne  as  ye  brew,  my  maiden  fair, 
Keep  mind  that  ye  maun  drink  the  yill.' 

'  O,  gear  will  buy  me  rigs  o'  land, 

And  gear  will  buy  me  sheep  and  kye ! 

But  the  tender  heart  o'  leesome  luve 
The  gowd  and  siller  canna  buy  : 
We  may  be  poor,   Robie  and  I ; 

Light  is  the  burden  luve  lays  on  ; 
Content  and  luve  brings  peace  and  joy — 

What  mair  hae  queens  upon  a  throne?' 


No.  135.    Now  rosy  May  comes  in  wi'  flowers. 

Tune  :  Dainty  Davie  (see  infra).  ( VJo.'ioij 

CHORUS.     Meet  me  on  the  warlock  knowe, 
Dainty  Davie,  Dainty  Davie ; 
There  /'//  spend  the  day  wi"1  you, 
My  ain  dear  Dainty  Davie. 


Now  rosy  May  comes  in  wi'  flowers 
To  deck   her   gay,   green-spreading 

bowers  ; 

And  now  comes  in  the  happy  hours 
To  wander  wi1  my  Davie. 

The  crystal  waters  round  us  fa', 
The  merry  birds  are  lovers  a', 
The  scented  breezes  round  us  blaw, 
A  wandering  wi'  my  Davie. 


When    purple    morning    starts    the 

hare 

To  steal  upon  her  early  fare, 
Then  thro'  the  dews  I  will  repair 
To  meet  my  faithfu'  Davie. 

When  day,  expiring  in  the  west, 
The  curtain  draws  o'  Nature's  rest, 
I  flee  to  his  arms  I  lo'e  the  best : 
And  that 's  my  ain  dear  Davie  ! 


I24 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  136.    When  oer  the  hill  the  eening  star. 

Tune:  My  ain  kind  dearie,  O.         Scots  Musical  Mtiseum,  1787,  No.  49. 

Slowly 


When         o'er   the  hill    the    e'en- ing  star  Tells    bught-in     time        is 


near,  my    jo,        And  ows  -  en  frae  the    fur- row' d  field     Re    -    turn 

tr 


sae    dowf       and       wea-ry,    O,       Down     by          the       burn,  where  scent  - 


ed       birks    Wi'      dew       are         hang    -    in          clear,  my      jo,         I'll 


meet  thee  on    the      lea  -  rig,      My         ain 


kind         dea  -  rie,     O. 


WHEN  o'er  the  hill  the  e'ening  star 

Tells  bughtin  time  is  near,  my  jo, 
And  owsen  frae  the  furrow'd  field 

Return  sae  dowf  and  weary,  O, 
Down  by  the  burn,  where  scented  birks 

Wi'  dew  are  hangin  clear,  my  jo, 
I'll  meet  thee  on  the  lea-rig, 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O. 

At  midnight  hour  in  mirkest  glen 

I'd  rove,  and  ne'er  be  eerie,  O, 
If  thro'  that  glen  I  gaed  to  thee, 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O  ! 
Altho'  the  night  were  ne'er  sae  wild, 

And  I  were  ne'er  sae  weary,  O, 
I'll  meet  thee  on  the  lea-rig, 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


125 


The  hunter  lo'es  the  morning  sun 

To  rouse  the  mountain  deer,  my  jo 
At  noon  the  fisher  takes  the  glen 

Adown  the  burn  to  steer,  my  jo  ; 
Gie  me  the  hour  o'  gloamin  grey, 

It  maks  my  heart  sae  cheery,  O, 
To  meet  thee  on  the  lea-rig, 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O  ! 


No.  137.    Braw,  braw  lads  on   Yarrow  braes. 

Tune  :   The  brave  lads  of  G alia  Water,      Cal.  Pocket  Comp.,  c.  1756,  viii.  p.  28. 


tr  tr 


Braw,  braw  lads  on  Yar-row  braes,  They  rove  a-mang  the  bloom-ing  heather ; 

I  fr. 


But  Yar-row  braes,  nor  Et-trick  shaws  Can  match  the  lads  o'     Gal  -  la    Water. 


BRAW,  braw  lads  on  Yarrow  braes, 

They  rove  amang  the  blooming  heather; 

But  Yarrow  braes  nor  Ettrick  shaws 
Can  match  the  lads  o'  Galla  Water. 

But  there  is  ane,  a  secret  ane, 
Aboon  them  a'  I  lo'e  him  better ; 

And  I'll  be  his,  and  he'll  be  mine, 
The  bonie  lad  o'  Galla  Water. 

Altho'  his  daddie  was  nae  laird, 
And  tho'  I  hae  nae  meikle  tocher, 

Yet,  rich  in  kindest,  truest  love, 

We'll  tent  our  flocks  by  Galla  Water. 

It  ne'er  was  wealth,  it  ne'er  was  wealth 
That  coft  contentment,  peace,  and  pleasure 

The  bands  and  bliss  o'  mutual  love, 
O,  that's  the  chiefest  warld's  treasure. 


126 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  138.    (9,  mirk,  mirk  is  this  midnight  hour. 

Tune  :  Lord  Gregory.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  5. 
Slow 

^fc 


O,    mirk,    mirk,  is        this    midnight    hour,     And          loud       the 


tern  -  pest's       roar;      A       wae-fu'      wander-er    seeks  thy   tower— Lord 
tr 


Gre  -   go  -   ry,       ope      thy      door!  An         ex    -    ile        frae       her 


fa  -  ther's      ha\     And         a'          for  sake    o'        thee,    At  least  some 


pi    -     ty  on      me    shaw,       If  love        it  may    na        be. 


O,  MIRK,  mirk  is  this  midnight  hour, 

And  loud  the  tempest's  roar ; 
A  waefu'  wanderer  seeks  thy  tower — 

Lord  Gregory,  ope  thy  door ! 
An  exile  frae  her  father's  ha,' 

And  a'  for  sake  o'  thee, 
At  least  some  pity  on  me  shaw, 

If  love  it  may  na  be. 

Lord  Gregory  mind'st  thou  not  the  grove 

By  bonie  Irwine  side, 
Where  first  I  own'd  that  virgin  love 

I  lang,  lang  had  denied? 
How  aften  didst  thou  pledge  and  vow, 

Thou  wad  for  ay  be  mine ! 
And  my  fond  heart,  itsel  sae  true, 

It  ne'er  mistrusted  thine. 

Hard  is  thy  heart,  Lord  Gregory, 

And  flinty  is  thy  breast : 
Thou  bolt  of  heaven  that  flashest  by, 

O,  wilt  thou  bring  me  rest ! 


II.  LOVE  :  GENERAL 


I27 


Ye  mustering  thunders  from  above, 

Your  willing  victim  see, 
But  spare  and  pardon  my  fause  love 

His  wrangs  to  Heaven  and  me ! 


No.  139.    There's  auld  Rob  Morris  that  wons 
in  yon  glen. 

Tune  :  Auld  Rob  Morris.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  30. 
,  Slow  tr 


There 's  auld  Rob  Mor-ris  that  wons  in   yon    glen,  He's  the     king     o'     gude 


fel-lows  and  wale  of  auld  men  ;    He  has  gowd  in     his      coffers,  he  has  ows  - 
tr 


en      and   kine,     And      ae       bo  -  nie      las-sie,     his        dau-tie    and    mine. 

THERE'S  auld  Rob  Morris  that  wons  in  yon  glen, 
He  's  the  king  o'  gude  fellows  and  wale  of  auld  men  ; 
He  has  gowd  in  his  coffers,  he  has  owsen  and  kine, 
And  ae  bonie  lassie,  his  dautie  and  mine. 

She's  fresh  as  the  morning  the  fairest  in  May, 
She  's  sweet  as  the  ev'ning  amang  the  new  hay, 
As  blythe  and  as  artless  as  the  lambs  on  the  lea, 
And  dear  to  my  heart  as  the  light  to  my  e'e. 

But  O,  she's  an  heiress— auld  Robin's  a  laird, 

And  my  daddie  has  noucht  but  a  cot-house  and  yard; 

A  wooer  like  me  maunna  hope  to  come  speed, 

The  wounds  I  must  hide  that  will  soon  be  my  dead. 

The  day  comes  to  me,  but  delight  brings  me  nane ; 
The  night  comes  to  me,  but  my  rest  it  is  gane : 
I  wander  my  lane  like  a  night-troubled  ghaist, 
And  I  sigh  as  my  heart  it  wad  burst  in  my  breast. 

O,  had  she  but  been  of  a  lower  degree, 
I  then  might  hae  hop'd  she  wad  srmTd  upon  me ! 
O,  how  past  descriving  had  then  been  my  bliss, 
As  now  my  distraction  no  words  can  express ! 


128 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  140.    Here  aw  a,  there  aw  a,  wandering  Willie. 


Tune  :  Here  awa,  there  aiva. 
Slow 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  57. 
tr 


Here     a   -   wa,     there    a-wa,    wan-der-ing    Wil  -  lie,     Here     a  -  wa, 


there    a-wa,  haud    a-wa       hame;    Come    to    my     bo-som,  my         ae 
tr 


on  -  ly      dear-ie,  And    tell  me  thou  bring'st  me  my    Wil  -  lie  the      same. 

HERE  awa,  there  awa,  wandering  Willie, 

Here  awa,  there  awa,  haud  awa  hame; 
Come  to  my  bosom,  my  ae  only  dearie, 

And  tell  me  thou  bring'st  me  my  Willie  the  same. 

Loud  tho'  the  winter  blew  cauld  at  our  parting, 
'Twas  na  the  blast  brought  the  tear  in  my  e'e  : 

Welcome  now  simmer,  and  welcome  my  Willie, 
The  simmer  to  nature,  my  Willie  to  me. 

Rest,  ye  wild  storms  in  the  cave  o'  your  slumbers — 
How  your  wild  howling  a  lover  alarms ! 

Wauken,  ye  breezes,  row  gently,  ye  billows, 

And  waft  my  dear  laddie  ance  mair  to  my  arms. 

But  O,  if  he 's  faithless,  and  minds  na  his  Nannie, 
Flow  still  between  us,  thou  wide  roaring  main ! 

May  I  never  see  it,  may  I  never  trow  it, 

But,  dying,  believe  that  my  Willie 's  my  ain  ! 


No.  141.    O,  open  the  door  some  pity  to  shew. 

Tune  :  Open  the  door  softly.         Bunting's  Irish  Melodies,  1796. 
With  pathos 


O,       open  the  door  some    pi  -  ty  to  shew,  If        love   it   may  na    be,  O  !  Th  o 


thou  hast  been  false,  I'll    ev-er  prove  true— O,  op -en  the  door  to      me,     O! 


II.  LOVE  !  GENERAL 


129 


O,  OPEN  the  door  some  pity  to  shew, 

If  love  it  may  na  be,  O  ! 
Tho'  thou  hast  been  false,  I'll  ever  prove  true — 

O,  open  the  door  to  me,  O  ! 

Cauld  is  the  blast  upon  my  pale  cheek, 

But  caulder  thy  love  for  me,  O : 
The  frost,  that  freezes  the  life  at  my  heart, 

Is  naught  to  my  pains  frae  thee,  O  ! 

The  wan  moon  sets  behind  the  white  wave, 

And  Time  is  setting  with  me,   O : 
False  friends,  false  love,  farewell !    for  mair 

I'll  ne'er  trouble  them,  nor  thee,  O  ! 

She  has  open'd  the  door,  she  has  open'd  it  wide, 
She  sees  the  pale  corse  on  the  plain,  O  ! 

'My  true  love,'  she  cried,  and  sank  down  by  his  side- 
Never  to  rise  again,  O  ! 


No.  142.    Lang  hae  we  parted  been. 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  218. 


Tune  :  Laddie  lie  near  me. 
Rather  slow 


Lang  hae  we     part-ed  been,  Las  -  sie,      my        dear  -  ie ;      Now    we      are 

CHORUS. 

-NTT— 


met    a  -  gain,    Las  -  sie,     lie         near    me !      Near  me^     near  me,  Las-sie^  lie 


near    me^  Lan^  hast   thou    lien  thy  lane,    Las  -  sie>       lie        near      me. 


LANG  hae  we  parted  been, 
Lassie,  my  dearie  ; 

Now  we  are  met  again, 
Lassie,  lie  near  me  ! 


CHORUS.  Near  me,  near  me, 

Lassie,  lie  near  me ! 
Lang'  hast  thou  lien  thy  lane, 
Lassie,  lie  near  me. 


A'  that  I  hae  endur'd, 

Lassie,  my  dearie, 
Here  in  thy  arms  is  cur'd  ! 

Lassie,  lie  near  me. 
K 


130 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  143.    By  Allan  stream  I  chancd  to  rove. 

Tune  :  Allan  Water.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  28. 
Slowly 


fci 


By      Al-lan  stream  I   chanc'd    to  rove,  While    Phoebus  sank  be  -  yond  Ben- 


le  -    di ;  The       winds   were        whis  -  p'ring       thro1      the    grove,    The 

-N 


yel    -    low      corn     was        wav  -  ing    rea  -  dy:         I  lis    -    ten'd 


to  a         lov   -   er's  sang,     An'  thought       on      youth  -  fu' 


plea    -   sures  mo  -  nie,    And         ay         the         wild       wood          e 


choes     rang:— O,  my       love        An  -  nie's        ve  -   ry     bon  -  i 

BY  Allan  stream  I  chanc'd  to  rove, 

While  Phoebus  sank  beyond  Benledi ; 
The  winds  were  whisp'ring  thro'  the  grove, 

The  yellow  corn  was  waving  ready  : 
I  listen'd  to  a  lover's  sang, 

An'  thought  on  youthfu'  pleasures  monie, 
And  ay  the  wild  wood  echoes  rang : — 

'  O,  my  love  Annie 's  very  bonie  ! 

'  O,  happy  be  the  woodbine  bower, 

Nae  nightly  bogle  make  it  eerie  ! 
Nor  ever  sorrow  stain  the  hour, 

The  place  and  time  I  met  my  dearie ! 
Her  head  upon  my  throbbing  breast, 

She,  sinking,  said: — "I'm  thine  for  ever!" 
While  monie  a  kiss  the  seal  imprest — 

The  sacred  vow  we  ne'er  should  sever.' 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


The  haunt  o'  Spring's  the  primrose-brae, 

The  Summer  joys  the  flocks  to  follow. 
How  cheery  thro'  her  shortening  day, 

Is  Autumn  in  her  weeds  o'  yellow ; 
But  can  they  melt  the  glowing  heart, 

Or  chain  the  soul  in  speechless  pleasure? 
Or  thro'  each  nerve  the  rapture  dart, 

Like  meeting  her,  our  bosom's  treasure? 


No.  144.   I  feed  a  man  at  Martinmas. 

Tune  :  O  can  ye  labour  lea.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 792,  No.  394. 


CHORUS.     O     can    ye       la  -  bar      lea,  young  man,    O,      can    ye       la  •  bar 

Fine. 


lea  ?    It     fee    nor  bountith  shall  us  twine  Gin   ye    can    labor         lea. 


*= 


I        fee'd     a       man     at      Mar  •  tin  -  mas    WP       airle         pen  -  nies 

D.  C. 


three :    But     a*  the     faut      I      had    to  him,  He  could  na    la  -  bor    lea. 

CHORUS.     O,  can  ye  labor  lea,  young  man, 

O.  can  ye  labor  lea  ? 
It  fee  nor  bountith  shall  us  twine 

Gin  ye  can  labor  lea. 
I  FEE'D  a  man  at  Martinmas 

Wi'  airle  pennies  three ; 
But  a'  the  faut  I  had  to  him 

He  could  na  labor  lea. 
O,  clappin's  gude  in  Febarwar, 

An'  kissin 's  sweet  in  May  ; 
But  my  delight's  the  ploughman  lad 

That  weel  can  labor  lea. 
O,  kissin  is  the  key  o'  luve, 

An'  clappin  is  the  lock  ; 
An'  makin  o's  the  best  thing  yet 

That  e'er  a  young  thing  got ! 


132 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  145.    As  down  the  burn  they  took  their  way. 

Tune  :  Down  the  burn,  Davie.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  50. 
Moderate  time 


As  down  the    burn    they    took   their  way,     And  thro'  the      flower  -  y 


dale ;      His  cheek  to    hers      he      aft     did    lay,  And  love  was     ay         the 

tr 


tale,    With  :—' Mary,  when  shall  we       re-turn,    Sic      pleasure     to         re 


•  m  _^9    ^  ^  i**'- 


new?' Quoth  Mary:-' Love,  I     like  the  burn,  And  ay  shall     fol  -  low     you. 

As  down  the  burn  they  took  their  way, 

And  thro'  the  flowery  dale ; 
His  cheek  to  hers  he  aft  did  lay, 

And  love  was  ay  the  tale, 
With: — 'Mary,  when  shall  we  return, 

Sic  pleasure  to  renew?' 
Quoth  Mary  : — '  Love,  I  like  the  burn, 

And  ay  shall  follow  you.' 


No.  146.    (9,  were  my  love  yon  lilac  fair. 

Tune  :  Gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  562. 
Smoothly 


O    were  my  love  yon        li    -    lac  fair  Wi1     pur-pie  blossoms     to  the  spring,  And 


I        a     bird      to       shel  -  ter  there,  When  wearied    on      my       lit   -   tie    wing. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


O,  WERE  my  love  yon  lilac  fair 
Wi'  purple  blossoms  to  the  spring, 

And  I  a  bird  to  shelter  there, 

When  wearied  on  my  little  wing, 

How  I  wad  mourn  when  it  was  torn 
By  autumn  wild  and  winter  rude  ! 

But  I  wad  sing  on  wanton  wing, 

When  youthfu'  May  its  bloom  renew'd. 

[O,  gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose, 
That  grows  upon  the  castle  wa', 

And  I  mysel  a  drap  o'  dew 
Into  her  bonie  breast  to  fa', 

O,  there,  beyond  expression  blest, 
I'd  feast  on  beauty  a'  the  night, 

Seal'd  on  her  silk-saft  faulds  to  rest, 
Till  fley'd  awa'  by  Phoebus'  light.] 


No.  147.    Simmer's  a  pleasant  time. 

e  :  Ay,  waukin,  O.         Napier's  Scots  Son 
<} 


Tune  :  Ay,  waukin,  O.         Napier's  Scots  Songs,  1790,  i.  p.  61. 
Slow 


CHORUS.  Ay,wau-kint   O,     Wau-kin  still  and  wear-iel  Sleep  I     can  get  nane 

Fine. 
rr\ 


For  think-ing   on   my     dearie.  Simmer's  a  pleasant  time:  Flowers  of    ev'ry 

D.  C. 


colour;  The  water  rins  o'er  the  heugh,  And    I    long    for   my   true  lov  -  er. 


CHORUS.  Ay,  waukin,  O. 

Waukin  still  and  zvearie ! 
Sleep  I  can  get  nane 
For  thinking  on  my  dearie. 

SIMMER'S  a  pleasant  time; 

Flowers  of  ev'ry  colour ; 
The  water  rins  o'er  the  heugh, 

And  I  long  for  my  true  lover. 


When  I  sleep  I  dream, 
When  I  wauk  I'm  eerie, 

Sleep  I  can  get  nane 

For  thinking  on  my  dearie. 

Lanely  night  comes  on, 
A'  the  lave  are  sleepin, 

I  think  on  my  bonie  lad, 

And  I  blear  my  een  wi'  greetin. 


134 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  148.    Go,  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o   wine. 

Tune  :  The  secret  kiss.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  231. 
Gracefully 


Go,  fetch    to       me      a       pint      o1    wine,  And    fill        it 


in      a      sil 


rer       tas-sie,  That  I       may  drink    be  -  fore        I       go    A    ser-vice     to 
tr 


my        bo  -  nie      las  -  sie !        The  boat       rocks    .          at     the      pier         o' 


Leith,  Fu'  loud     the    wind  blaws  frae     the        fer  -  ry,    The  ship      rides        by 


the       Ber  -  wick  -  Law,  And   I    maun    leave      .     my    bo  -  nie        Ma-ry. 


Go,  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o'  wine, 

And  fill  it  in  a  silver  tassie, 
That  I  may  drink  before  I  go 

A  service  to  my  bonie  lassie ! 
The  boat  rocks  at  the  pier  o'  Leith, 

Fu1  loud  the  wind  blaws  frae  the  ferry. 
The  ship  rides  by  the  Berwick-law, 

And  I  maun  leave  my  bonie  Mary. 

The  trumpets  sound,  the  banners  fly, 

The  glittering  spears  are  ranked  ready, 
The  shouts  o'  war  are  heard  afar, 

The  battle  closes  deep  and  bloody, 
It's  not  the  roar  o'  sea  or  shore 

Wad  mak  me  langer  wish  to  tarry, 
Nor  shouts  o'  war  that 's  heard  afar — 

It 's  leaving  thee,  my  bonie  Mary ! 


II.     LOVE  I    GENERAL 


135 


No.  149.    Young  Jamie,  pride  of  a    the  plain. 

Tune  :   The  carlin  o'  the  glen.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.,  420. 
With  gravity 


and       sae          gay      a      swain,  Thro     a'        our      las  -  sies 


did      rove,      And         reign'd    re    -    sist   -   less         king       of        love. 


But  now,       wi'  sighs    and       start  -  ing    tears,     He  strays 


a  -  mang     the      woods    and     breers ;    Or  in         the       glens      and 


rock    -   y     caves,    His  sad    com  -  plain  -  ing        dow    -    ie       raves : 


YOUNG  Jamie,  pride  of  a'  the  plain, 
Sae  gallant  and  sae  gay  a  swain, 
Thro'  a'  our  lassies  he  did  rove, 
And  reign'd  resistless  king  of  love. 
But  now,  wi'  sighs  and  starting  tears, 
He  strays  amang  the  woods  and  breers  ; 
Or  in  the  glens  and  rocky  caves, 
His  sad  complaining  dowie  raves  : — 

'  I,  wha  sae  late  did  range  and  rove, 
And  chang'd  with  every  moon  my  love  ; 
I  little  thought  the  time  was  near 
Repentance  I  should  buy  sae  dear : 
The  slighted  maids  my  torments  see, 
And  laugh  at  a'  the  pangs  I  dree  ; 
While  she,  my  cruel,  scornfu'  fair, 
Forbids  me  e'er  to  see  her  mair ! ' 


136 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  150.    Hee  balou ,  my  sweet  wee  Donald. 

Tune:  The  highland  balou.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  472. 
Very  slow 


Hee  ba  -  lou,  my  sweet  wee  Donald,     Pic-tureo1    the  great  Clanronald  ! 


Braw  -  lie  kens    our  wan  -  ton  chief    Wha    gat    my  young  Highland  thief. 

HEE  balou,  my  sweet  wee  Donald, 
Picture  o'  the  great  Clanronald ! 
Brawlie  kens  our  wanton  chief 
Wha  gat  my  young  Highland  thief. 

Leeze  me  on  thy  bonie  craigie ! 
An  thou  live,  thou'll  steal  a  naigie. 
Travel  the  country  thro'  and  thro', 
And  bring  hame  a  Carlisle  cow. 

Thro'  the  Lawlands,  o'er  the  Border, 
Weel,  my  babie,  may  thou  furder, 
Kerry  the  louns  o'  the  laigh  countrie, 
Syne  to  the  Highlands  hame  to  me. 


No.  151.    O,  saw  ye  my  dear,  my  P hilly. 

Tune  :  When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit.       Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  353. 
Slow 


^•—m—j. 


O,      saw     ye  my  dear,    my       Phil  -  ly  ?  O,       saw       ye    my 


dear,      my     Phil-ly?  She 's  down    i'       the    grove,  she's         wi' 


a    new      love,    She     win -na  come  hame    to    her     Wil  -  ly. 


II.     LOVE  I    GENERAL 


137 


O,  SAW  ye  my  dear,  my  Philly? 
O,  saw  ye  my  dear,  my  Philly? 
She 's  down  i'  the  grove,  she  's  wi'  a  new  love, 

She  winna  come  hame  to  her  Willy. 
What  says  she  my  dear,  my  Philly? 
What  says  she  my  dear,  my  Philly? 
She  lets  thee  to  wit  she  has  thee  forgot, 

And  for  ever  disowns  thee,  her  Willy. 
O,  had  I  ne'er  seen  thee,  my  Philly ! 
O,  had  I  ne'er  seen  thee,  my  Philly ! 
As  light  as  the  air,  and  fause  as  thou  's  fair, 

Thou  's  broken  the  heart  o'  thy  Willy. 


No.  152.    My  luve  is  like  a  red,  red  rose. 


Tune  :  Major  Graham. 
Moderate  time 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  402. 


;r  fa  is  Vf: '  i»  I  J    1^  fv.  ft  I   ~PF    ».  N. 


My  luve  is  like    a  red,  red  rose,That's  newly  sprung  in  June:  My  luve  is  like 


the  me  -  lo-die  that's  sweetly  play'd  in  tune.         As        fair  art  thou,  my  bonie  lass, 


•bis 


So  deep  in  luve  am  I,  And  I  will  luve  thee  still,m}'dear,Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry. 


My  luve  is  like  a  red,  red  rose, 

That's  newly  sprung  in  June: 
My  luve  is  like  the  melodic, 

That 's  sweetly  play'd  in  tune. 
As  fair  art  thou,  my  bonie  lass, 

So  deep  in  luve  am  I, 
And  I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear, 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry. 

Till  a1  the  seas  gang  dry,  my  dear, 

And  the  rocks  melt  wi'  the  sun  ! 
And  I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear, 

While  the  sands  o'  life  shall  run. 
And  fare-thee-weel,  my  only  luve, 

And  fare-thee-weel  a  while ! 
And  I  will  come  again,  my  Juve, 

Tho'  it  were  ten  thousand  mile. 


bis 


139 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  153.    The  ploughman,  he's  a  bonie  lad. 

Tune:   The  Ploughman.         Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  p.  248. 
Briskly 


The  ploughman  he's  a       bo  -  nie    lad,  His  mind  is     ev  -  er    true,    jo! 


His      gar-ters  knit    be  -  low  his  knee,  His     bon-net     it      is     blue,    jo. 

THE  ploughman,  he's  a  bonie  lad, 

His  mind  is  ever  true,  jo  ! 
His  garters  knit  below  his  knee, 

His  bonnet  it  is  blue,  jo. 

CHORUS.      Then  up  wCt  a\  my  ploughman  lad, 

And  hey,  my  merry  ploughman  ! 
Of  a1  the  trades  that  I  do  ken, 
Commend  me  to  the  ploughman ! 

I  hae  been  east,  I  hae  been  west, 

I  hae  been  at  Saint  Johnston  ; 
The  boniest  sight  that  e'er  I  saw 

Was  the  ploughman  laddie  dancin. 

Snaw-white  stockins  on  his  legs, 

And  siller  buckles  glancin, 
A  gude  blue  bonnet  on  his  head, 

And  O,  but  he  was  handsome ! 

Commend  me  to  the  barn-yard 

And  the  corn-mou,  man  ! 
I  never  gat  my  coggie  fou 

Till  I  met  wi'  the  ploughman. 


No.  154.    Thou  has  left  me  ever,  Jamie. 

Tune  :  Fee  him  father,  fee  him.         Bremner's  Scots  Songs,  1757,  p.  6. 
Slow 


Thou  hast  left  me    ev  -  er,    Ja  -mie,  Thou  hast  left  me    ev  -  er !    Thou  hast 


left    me    ev  -  er,     Ja  -  mie,  Thou  hast  left    me      ev-er!          Aft -en    hast 


II.     LOVE  !    GENERAL 


139 


thou  vow'd  that  death  On  -  ly  should  us     se  -  ver ;  Now  thou'st  left  thy  lass  for 


ay—     I  maun  see  thee     never,     Ja  -  mie,     I'll     see    thee    never ! 


THOU  hast  left  me  ever,  Jamie, 

Thou  hast  left  me  ever! 
Thou  hast  left  me  ever,  Jamie, 

Thou  hast  left  me  ever ! 
Aften  hast  thou  vow'd  that  death 

Only  should  us  sever ; 
Now  thou'st  left  thy  lass  for  ay — 

I  maun  see  thee  never,  Jamie, 
I'll  see  thee  never! 


Thou  hast  me  forsaken,  Jamie, 

Thou  hast  me  forsaken  ! 
Thou  hast  me  forsaken,  Jamie, 

Thou  hast  me  forsaken  ! 
Thou  canst  love  another  jo, 

While  my  heart  is  breaking  ; 
Soon  my  weary  een  I'll  close, 

Never  mair  to  waken,  Jamie, 
Never  mair  to  waken ! 


No.  155.    My  heart  is  sair — /  darena  tell. 

Tune  :  For  the  sake  o1  Somebody.        Scots  Musical  Museutn,  1796,  No.  436. 

Slow 


=3* 


My     heart     is      sair—  I       dare  -  na     tell, —  My    heart    is      sair     for 


Some  -  bo  -  dy ;      I    could  wake    a      win  -  ter  night  For   the     sake    o' 


Some-bo-dy.       O  -  hon!  for   Some-bo-dyl    O  -  hey  1  for  Some-bo  -  dy ! 


MY 


I    could  range  the  world  a  -  round  For   the    sake     o1   Some  -  bo  -  dy 
heart   is    sair  —  I    darena 


tell,— 

My  heart  is  sair  for  Somebody  ; 
I  could  wake  a  winter  night 
For  the  sake  o'  Somebody. 
O-hon  !   for  Somebody  ! 
O-hey  !   for  Somebody  ! 
I  could  range  the  world  around 
For  the  sake  o'  Somebody. 


Ye  Powers  that  smile  on  virtuous 

love, 

O,  sweetly  smile  on  Somebody  ! 
Frae  ilka  danger  keep  him  free, 
And  send  me  safe  my  Somebody. 
O-hon  !   for  Somebody  ! 
O-hey  !   for  Somebody  ! 
I  wad  do — what  wad  I  not? — 
For  the  sake  o'  Somebody  I 


140 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  156.    The  winter  it  is  past. 

nter  it  is  past.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  178! 


Tune:   The  winter  it  is  past.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  200. 
Slowly 


The      win  -  ter     it      is    past,  and  the    sim  -  mer  comes  at  last,  And  the 


small  birds  sing  on      ev'   -     ry         tree:  The    hearts  of  these  are    glad, 


but      mine   is     ve  -  ry    sad,  For  my      lo  -  ver     has     part  -  ed  from   me. 


THE  winter  it  is  past,  and  the  simmer  comes  at  last, 

And  the  small  birds  sing  on  ev'ry  tree  : 
The  hearts  of  these  are  glad,  but  mine  is  very  sad, 

For  my  lover  has  parted  from  me. 

The  rose  upon  the  brier  by  the  waters  running  clear 

May  have  charms  for  the  linnet  or  the  bee  : 
Their  little  loves  are  blest,  and  their  little  hearts  at  rest, 

But  my  lover  is  parted  from  me. 

[My  love  is  like  the  sun  in  the  firmament  does  run  — 

For  ever  constant  and  true  ; 
But  his  is  like  the  moon,  that  wanders  up  and  doWn 

And  every  month  it  is  new. 

All  you  that  are  in  love,  and  cannot  it  remove, 

I  pity  the  pains  you  endure, 
For  experience  makes  me  know  that  your  hearts  are  full  of  woe, 

A  woe  that  no  mortal  can  cure.] 


No.  157.    Comin  thro    the  rye,  poor  body. 

Tune:  Miller' s  wedding.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  417. 

,     Slow 


Com  -  in     thro'    the  rye,    poor  bo  -  dy,       Com  -  in      tbro'  the  rye,          She 


draigl't        a'        her   pet   -    ti  -  coa  -  tie,        Com  -  in    thro'      the    rye ! 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


CHORUS.     O,         Jen-ny^s      fl'    weetpoorbo-dy,     Jen-ny* s sel- dom  dry ;  She 


draigrt       a1        her  pet  -  ti  -   coa   -   //<?,       Com-in    thro1    the    rye! 


COMIN  thro'  the  rye,  poor  body, 

Comin  thro'  the  rye, 
She  draigl't  a'  her  petticoatie, 

Comin  thro'  the  rye  ! 

CHORUS.  O,  Jenny 's  a1  weet,  poor  body, 

Jenny 's  seldom  dry  • 
She  draigl^t a'  her  petticoatie, 
Comin  thro'  the  rye  / 


Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 
Comin  thro*  the  rye  ; 

Gin  a  body  kiss  a  body 
Need  a  body  cry  ? 

Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 
Comin  thro'  the  glen  ; 

Gin  a  body  kiss  a  body 
Need  the  warld  ken  ? 


No.  158.    Woe  is  my  heart. 

Tune  :   Wae  is  my  heart.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  476. 


Slow 


tr 


Wae   is    my  heart,  and  the   tear's    in     my     e'e ;  Lang,  lang  joy's  been  a 


stran-ger      to        me:  For  -  saken     and      friend  -  less   my       bur -den      I 


bear,    And  the     sweet    voice  o'         pi    -    ty    ne'er  sounds    in    my      ear. 

WAE  is  my  heart,  and  the  tear 's  in  my  e'e  ; 
Lang,  lang  joy's  been  a  stranger  to  me  : 
Forsaken  and  friendless  my  burden  I  bear, 
And  the  sweet  voice  o'  pity  ne'er  sounds  in  my  ear. 

Love,  thou  hast  pleasures — and  deep  hae  I  luv'd  ! 
Love,  thou  hast  sorrows — and  sair  hae  I  pruv'd  ! 
But  this  bruised  heart  that  now  bleeds  in  my  breast, 
I  can  feel  by  its  throbbings,  will  soon  be  at  rest. 

O,  if  I  were  where  happy  I  hae  been, 

Down  by  yon  stream  and  yon  bonie  castle-green  ! 

For  there  he  is  wand'ring  and  musing  on  me, 

Wha  wad  soon  dry  the  tear-drop  that  clings  to  my  e'e. 


142 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  159.    O  lassie,  are  ye  sleepin  yet? 

I.  Pocket  Companion,  1752, 


Tune  :  Will  ye  lend  me  your  loom,  lass?    Cal.  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  p.  21. 
Slowly 


CHORUS.  O,        let       me      in       this       ae       night,      This  ae,  ae, 


ae         night,    O,  let      me 


ae         night,    O,  let      me       in      this         ae        night,  I'll 

Fine. 


-   gain,  jo.  O       las  -  sie,  are   ye  sleep  -  in  yet, 


Or       are     ye     waukin,         I        wad    wit?    For       love     has  bound   me 

D.C. 


hand       an'       fit,         And  I         would     fain        be  in,         jo. 


CHORUS.     O,  let  me  in  this  ae  night, 

This  ae,  ae,  ae  night ; 
O,  let  me  in  this  ae  night, 
ril  no  come  back  again,  jo  I 

O  LASSIE,  are  ye  sleepin  yet, 
Or  are  ye  waukin,  I  wad  wit? 
For  love  has  bound  me  hand  an'  fit, 
And  I  would  fain  be  in,  jo. 

O,  hear'st  thou  not  the  wind  an'  weet? 
Nae  star  blinks  thro1  the  driving  sleet; 
Tak  pity  on  my  weary  feet, 

And  shield  me  frae  the  rain,  jo. 

The  bitter  blast  that  round  me  blaws, 
Unheeded  howls,  unheeded  fa's  : 
The  cauldness  o'  thy  heart's  the  cause 
Of  a1  my  grief  and  pine,  jo. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


143 


HER   ANSWER. 

CHORUS.     I  tell  you  now  this  ae  night ', 

This  ae,  ae,  ae  night, 
And  ance  for  a'  this  ae  night, 
I  winna  let  ye  in,  jo. 

O,  tell  na  me  o'  wind  an'  rain, 
Upbraid  na  me  wi1  cauld  disdain, 
Gae  back  the  gate  ye  cam  again, 
I  winna  let  you  in,  jo. 

The  snellest  blast  at  mirkest  hours, 
That  round  the  pathless  wand'rer  pours, 
Is  nocht  to  what  poor  she  endures 
That's  trusted  faithless  man,  jo. 

The  sweetest  flower  that  deck'd  the  mead, 
Now  trodden  like  the  vilest  weed — 
Let  simple  maid  the  lesson  read 
The  weird  may  be  her  ain,  jo. 

The  bird  that  charm'd  his  summer  day, 
And  now  the  cruel  fowler's  prey ; 
Let  that  to  witless  woman  say 
'The  gratefu'  heart  of  man,'  jo. 


No.  1 60.  Will  ye  go  to  the  Highlands,  Leezie  Lindsay  ? 


Tune  :  Leezie  Lindsay. 
Moderately 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  434. 


Will     ye         go        to     the    High-lands,  Lee-zie      Lind-say?  Will      ye 


go        to     the      High -lands    wi'         me?  Will    ye      go       to      the       High 

^-  tr 

=fc==J 


lands,  Lee  zie    Lind-say,    My      pride    and    my       dar  -  ling       to 

WILL  ye  go  to  the  Highlands,   Leezie  Lindsay? 

Will  ye  go  to  the  Highlands  wi1  me? 
Will  ye  go  to  the  Highlands,  Leezie  Lindsay, 

My  pride  and  my  darling  to  be. 


be? 


144 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  161.    'Twas  past  one  o  clock. 

Tune  :  Cold  frosty  morning.         McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  c.  1766,  p.  119. 


Smcothly 


j     ^4^M-^3C=j-a 


'Twas    past    one     o'  -  clock   in      a       cauld      fros   •    ty        morn  ing  When 
tr 


• — «_  m—^- 


1 


can-kert  No  -  vem  -  her  blaws  o-ver     the       plain,      I       heard  the     kirk  - 

tr  ir 


*•*-+-   -0-'  * 


bell  re    -     peat     the       loud      warn-ing,  As     rest  -  less    I     sought 

tr  /—  tr 


for  sweet   slum  -  ber    in     vain :      Then         up          I      a  -  rose,     the    sil  -  ver 
-  "*  — W     -x       tr 


moon     shining  bright ;  Moun-tains     and      val  -  lies  ap   •    pear  -  ing        all 

.  tr  ,-          ,- 


si  -  lent  night,  To       vis    -    it    the        fair     one,  the      cause      of  my    pain. 

'TWAS  past  one  o'clock  in  a  cauld  frosty  morning 
When  cankert  November  blaws  over  the  plain, 

I  heard  the  kirk-bell  repeat  the  loud  warning 
As  restless  I  sought  for  sweet  slumber  in  vain  : 

Then  up  I  arose,  the  silver  moon  shining  bright, 

Mountains  and  vallies  appearing  all  hoary  white  ; 

Forth  I  would  go  amid  the  pale,  silent  night, 
To  visit  the  fair  one,  the  cause  of  my  pain. 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


145 


Sae  gently  I  staw  to  my  lovely  maid's  chamber, 

And  rapp'd  at  her  window,  low  down  on  my  knee, 
Begging  that  she  would  awauk  from  sweet  slumber, 

Awauk  from  sweet  slumber  and  pity  me  : 
For,  that  a  stranger  to  a1  pleasure,  peace  and  rest, 
Love  into  madness  had  fired  my  tortur'd  breast, 
And  that  I  should  be  of  a'  men  the  maist  unblest, 
Unless  she  would  pity  my  sad  miserie  ! 

My  true  love  arose  and  whispered  to  me — 

(The  moon  looked  in  and  envy'd  my  love's  charms  ; — ) 

'  An  innocent  maiden,  ah,  would  you  undo  me  ! ' 
I  made  no  reply,  but  leapt  into  her  arms  : 

Bright  Phrebus  peep'd  over  the  hills  and  found  me  there  ; 

As  he  has  done,  now,   seven  lang  years  and  mair, 

A  faithfuller,  constanter,  kinder,  more  loving  pair, 
His  sweet  chearing  beam  nor  enlightens  nor  warms. 


No.  162.    Jockie  's  taen  the  parting  kiss. 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  570. 


Tune  :  Bonie  lass  tak  a  man. 
Pointedly 


« 


Jockie 's  taen  the    part  -  ing    kiss,   O'er  the  moun-tains       he    is   gane,  And 


with    him      is 


my  bliss — Nought  but      griefs    with      me    re -main. 


Spare  my  luve  ye    winds  that    blaw,      Flashy  sleets  and     beat-ing  rain  !  Spare 


*—M     n   J  1 1    r*-      —       '  - 


my        luve      thou       feath  -  ery    snaw,  Drift-ing    o'er       the      fro-zen  plain! 


JOCKIE  's  taen  the  parting  kiss, 

O'er  the  mountains  he  is  gane, 
And  with  him  is  a'  my  bliss — 

Nought  but  griefs  with  me  remain. 
Spare  my  luve  ye  winds  that  blaw, 

Flashy  sleets  and  beating  rain  ! 
Spare  my  luve  thou  feathery  snaw, 

Drifting  o'er  the  frozen  plain  ! 


When  the  shades  of  evening  creep 

O'er  the  day's  fair  gladsome  e'e, 
Sound  and  safely  may  he  sleep, 

Sweetly  blythe  his  waukening  be! 
He  will  think  on  her  he  loves — 

Fondly  he'll  repeat  her  name, 
For  where'er  he  distant  roves, 

Jockie's  heart  is  still  at  hame. 


146 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  163.    As  I  was  walking  up  the  street. 

Tune  :  Mally^s  meek,  Mally 's  sweet.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  597. 
Gracefully 


CHORUS  Mally  's  meek,  Matty  'j  sweet^    Mally  's    mo-dest  and  dis-creet,    Mally  ^ 

Fine. 


rare,    Mally  'j  fair,  Mally  V      ev'ry       way   com-plete.       As         I      was   walk  - 


ing     up        the    street,    A      bare -fit    maid     I  chanc'd  to    meet;  But       O, 

D.C. 


the  road  was    ve    -    ry     hard    For    that    fair    mai-den's   ten  •  der  feet ! 

CHORUS.     Mally 's  meek,  Mally  's  sweet, 
Mally ''s  modest  and  discreet, 
Mally  's  rare,  Mally  's  fair, 
Mally 's  ev'ry  way  complete. 

As  I  was  walking  up  the  street, 
A  barefit  maid  I  chanc'd  to  meet ; 

But  O,  the  road  was  very  hard 
For  that  fair  maiden's  tender  feet ! 

It  were  mair  meet  that  those  fine  feet 
Were  weel  lac'd  up  in  silken  shoon  ! 

An'  'twere  more  fit  that  she  should  sit 
Within  yon  chariot  gilt  aboon  ! 

Her  yellow  hair,  beyond  compare, 

Comes  trinklin  down  her  swan-white  neck, 

And  her  two  eyes  like  stars  in  skies, 
Would  keep  a  sinking  ship  frae  wreck. 


No.  164.    Is  this  thy  plighted,  fond  regard? 

Tune  :  Ruffian's  rant  (see  infra). 
CHORUS.     Canst  thou  leave  me  thus,  my  Katie  I 
Canst  thou  leave  me  thus,  my  Katie! 
Well  thou  know'st  my  aching  heart, 
And  canst  thou  leave  me  thus  for  pity  ? 


II.     LOVE  !    GENERAL 


147 


Is  this  thy  plighted,  fond  regard, 
Thus  cruelly  to  part,  my  Katie? 

Is  this  thy  faithful  swain's  reward — 
An  aching  broken  heart,  my  Katie  ? 

Farewell !    and  ne'er  such  sorrows  tear 
That  fickle  heart  of  thine,  my  Katie  ! 

Thou  may'st  find  those  will  love  thee  dear, 
But  not  a  love  like  mine,  my  Katie  ! 


No.  165.    There  was  a  bonie  lass.- 

Tune  :  A  bonie  lass.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  586. 
Briskly 


There    was      a     bon  -  ie     lass,    and    a       bon  -  ie,   bon  -  ie        lass,  And 


she        lo'ed       her      bon  -  ie     lad  -  die       dear ; 


Tilf 


war's    loud 


a  -  larms  tore    her    lad  -  die  frae    her      arms 


sigh     and      a       tear.      O-ver    sea,    o-ver  shore,  where  the  cannons  loudly 


roar,  He  still  was    a     stranger    to      fear,      And  nocht  could  him  quail,  or  his 


bo  -  som    as  -  sail,    But  the          bon    -    ie  lass    he    lo'ed   sae       dear. 


THERE  was  a  bonie  lass,  and  a  bonie,  bonie  lass, 

And  she  lo'ed  her  bonie  laddie  dear, 
Till  war's  loud  alarms  tore  her  laddie  frae  her  arms 

Wi'  monie  a  sigh  and  a  tear. 
Over  sea,  over  shore,  where  the  cannons  loudly  roar, 

He  still  was  a  stranger  to  fear, 
And  nocht  could  him  quail,  or  his  bosom  assail, 

But  the  bonie  lass  he  lo'ed  sae  dear. 

L  2 


148 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  1 6 6.   As  late  by  a  sodger  I  chanced  to  pass. 

Tune  :  /'//  mak  you  be  fain  to  follow  me.     Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1790,  No.  268. 
Cheerily 


As  late  by    a     sodg-er    I    chanced     to  pass,    I     heard  him    a     courtin 


a      bon  -  ie  young  lass ;' My  hin  -  ny,    my    life,     my  dear-est,'  quo'  he,    'I'll 


mak  you  be  fain    to        fol  -  low  me.'  '  Gin       I    should  fol  -  low  you  a    poor 


sodger  lad,  Ilk    ane  o'  my  cummers  wad  think  I  was  mad :  For  battles    I    nev- 


er   shall    lang       to    see,     I'll      nev  -  er     be  fain     to         fol  -  low  thee.' 

As  late  by  a  sodger  I  chanced  to  pass, 
I  heard  him  a  courtin  a  bonie  young  lass, 
'  My  hinny,  my  life,  my  dearest,'  quo'  he, 
'  I'll  mak  you  be  fain  to  follow  me.' 
'  Gin  I  should  follow  you  a  poor  sodger  lad 
Ilk  ane  o'  my  cummers  wad  think  I  was  mad. 
For  battles  I  never  shall  lang  to  see, 
I'll  never  be  fain  to  follow  thee.' 

'To  follow  me,  I  think  ye  may  be  glad, 
A  part  o'  my  supper,  a  part  o'  my  bed, 
A  part  o*  my  bed,  wherever  it  be, 
I'll  mak  ye  be  fain  to  follow  me. 
Come  try  my  knapsack  on  your  back, 
Alang  the  king's  highgate  we'll  pack, 
Between  Saint  Johnston  and  bonie  Dundee, 
I'll  mak  you  be  fain  to  follow  me.' 


II.     LOVE  :    GENERAL 


149 


No.  167.    O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do? 

Tune  :  O  dear  minny.         Ancient  MS.  (Stenhouse's  ///.). 
Moderate  time 


CHORUS.     O      dear      min  -  ny,     what    shall      I       do?       O        dear  min  •  ny, 

-O-HH^V— 


what    shall      I         do?        O     dear     min  -  ny,    what    shall     I         do? 

Fine, 


>^  *  9       _<->'.    . 


*Daft    thing,  doylt  thing,      do     as       I      do.'      If      I       be      black,       I 


can-nabe       lo'ed;       If     I     be     fair    I     can-na   be      gude ;      If     I     be 

D.  C. 


lord-ly,  the  lads  will  look  by    me:    O      dear     min  -  ny,    what  shall     I      do' 


CHORUS.  O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do  ? 
O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do  ? 
O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do? 
( Daft  thing,  doylt  thing,  do  as  I  do? 

If  I  be  black,  I  canna  be  lo'ed  ; 

If  I  be  fair  I  canna  be  gude  ; 

If  I  be  lordly,  the  lads  will  look  by  me  : 

O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do  ? 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


III.     LOVE—  HUMOROUS. 


No.  1 68.    Here's  to  thy  health,  my  bonie  lass! 

Tune  :  Laggan  burn.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  495. 
Briskly 


Here's      to    thy  health,  my    bon-ie  lass ;  Gude  night  and  joy  be     wi'    thee; 


I'll       come  nae  mair  to  thy  bower-door  To     tell  thee  that  I      lo'e    thee. 


O,         din  -  na    think,  my  pret  -  ty   pink,  But     I     can    live    with  -  out 


thee :        I  vow  and  swear  I    din  -  na  care  How  lang  ye  look  a  -  bout    ye  ! 

HERE  's  to  thy  health,  my  bonie  lass ! 

Gude  night  and  joy  be  wi'  thee  ; 
I'll  come  nae  mair  to  thy  bower-door 

To  tell  thee  that  I  lo'e  thee. 
O,   dinna  think,  my  pretty  pink, 

But  I  can  live  without  thee  : 
I  vow  and  swear  I  dinna  care 

How  lang  ye  look  about  ye ! 

Thou  'rt  ay  sae  free  informing  me 

Thou  hast  nae  mind  to  marry, 
I'll  be  as  free  informing  thee 

Nae  time  hae  I  to  tarry. 
I  ken  thy  freens  try  ilka  means 

Frae  wedlock  to  delay  thee — 
Depending  on  some  higher  chance, — 

But  fortune  may  betray  thee. 

I  ken  they  scorn  my  low  estate, 

But  that  does  never  grieve  me, 
For  I'm  as  free  as  any  he, — 

Sma'  siller  will  relieve  me  ! 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


I'll  count  my  health  my  greatest  wealth 

Sae  lang  as  I'll  enjoy  it : 
I'll  fear  nae  scant,  I'll  bode  nae  want 

As  lang's  I  get  employment. 

But  far  off  fowls  hae  feathers  fair, 

And  ay  until  ye  try  them, 
Tho'  they  seem  fair,  still  have  a  care — 

They  may  prove  as  bad  as  I  am  ! 
But  at  twel  at  night,  when  the  moon  shines  bright, 

My  dear,   I'll  come  and  see  thee, 
For  the  man  that  loves  his  mistress  weel, 

Nae  travel  makes  him  weary. 


No.  169.    The  taylor  fell  thro    the  bed. 

1  ripells  young  wan.     Scots  M.  M 

E^zzz^Ep^T*— [^1 

-^Cik— a=gg=fe£i 


Tune  :  Irede ye  beware  o'  //z£  ripells  young  man.     Scots  M.  M.,  1790,  No.  212. 
C&tfr/Ty 


P£ 


The       tay  -  lor     fell  thro'    the  bed;  thira-ble    an'    a',   The     tay  -  lor 


fell  thro'   the    bed,  thim  -  ble      an'     a' ;     The         blankets  were  thin,  and 


the  sheets  they  were  sma',  The  tay  -  lor  fell  thro'  the  bed,  thim-ble    an'    a' ! 

THE  taylor  fell  thro'  the  bed,  thimble  an'  a', 

The  taylor  fell  thro'  the  bed,  thimble,  an'  a', 

The  blankets  were  thin,  and  the  sheets  they  were  sma', — 

The  taylor  fell  thro'  the  bed,  thimble  an'  a'! 

The  sleepy  bit  lassie,  she  dreaded  nae  ill, 
The  sleepy  bit  lassie,  she  dreaded  nae  ill ; 
The  weather  was  cauld,  and  the  lassie  lay  still ; 
She  thought  that  a  taylor  could  do  her  nae  ill ! 
Gie  me  the  groat  again,  cannie  young  man  ! 
Gie  me  the  groat  again,  cannie  young  man  ! 
The  day  it  is  short,  and  the  night  it  is  lang — 
The  dearest  siller  that  ever  I  wan ! 

There's  somebody  weary  wi'  lying  her  lane, 
There  's  somebody  weary  wi'  lying  her  lane, 
There  's  some  that  are  dowie,  I  trow  wad  be  fain 
To  see  the  bit  taylor  come  skippin  again. 


152 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  170.    (9,  merry  hae  I  been  teethin  a  heckle. 

Scots  Musical  Museum^  1790,  No.  270. 

N 


Tune  :  Lord  Breadalbine's  March. 
Brisk 

£ 


O,    mer  -  ry    hae        I        been    teeth  -  in 


hae        I        been    shap-in     a  spoon  ;  O,     mer -ry  hae        I        been  clout -in 


a       ket-tle,       An1      kiss  -  in     my     Ka  -  tie  when        a'          was      done. 


O,        a'    the  lang    day        I         ca'     at  my    ham-mer,  An'     a'      the   lang 


day          I        whis  -  tie  and  sing ;  O,       a'      the  lang    night        I       cud  -  die 


* 


my    kim  •  mer,  An'      a1        the  lang     night       as      hap  -  py's    a     king! 

O,  MERRY  hae  I  been  teethin  a  heckle, 

An'  merry  hae  I  been  shapin  a  spoon  ; 
O,  merry  hae  I  been  cloutin  a  kettle, 

An'  kissin  my  Katie  when  a'  was  done. 
O,  a'  the  lang  day  I  ca'  at  my  hammer, 

An'  a'  the  lang  day  I  whistle  and  sing ; 
O,  a'  the  lang  night  I  cuddle  my  kimmer, 

An'  a'  the  lang  night  as  happy 's  a  king  ! 

Bitter  in  dool,  I  lickit  my  winnins    . 

O'  marrying  Bess,  to  gie  her  a  slave  : 
Blest  be  the  hour  she  cool'd  in  her  linens, 

And  blythe  be  the  bird  that  sings  on  her  grave ! 
Come  to  my  arms,  my  Katie,  my  Katie, 

An'  come  to  my  arms,  and  kiss  me  again  ! 
Drucken  or  sober,  here's  to  thee,  Katie, 

An'  blest  be  the  day  I  did  it  again  ! 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


153 


No.  171.    My  lord  a- hunting  he  is  gane. 

Tune  :  My  lady's  gown.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  554. 
Brisk 

:!** 


CHORUS.    My  lady1  s  gown,  there"  sgairs  upon  V,  And  gowden  flowers  sae  rare  upon't; 

Fine. 


But    Jenny's  jimps  andjir  -  kin  -  et,   My  lord  thinks  nteikle  mair  up  - on't. 


My    lord    a-hunt-ing    he      is  gane,  But  hounds  or  hawks  wi'  him  are  nane; 

D.C. 


By     Colin's    cot  -  tage  lies  his  game,  If        Colin's    Jen-ny    be    at  hame. 


CHORUS.     My  lady's  gown,  there's  gairs  upon't. 
And  gowden  flowers  sae  rare  upon't; 
But  Jenny's  jimps  and  jirkinet^ 
My  lord  thinks  meikle  mair  upon't. 

MY  lord  a-hunting  he  is  gane, 

But  hounds  or  hawks  wi'  him  are  nane  ; 

By  Colin's  cottage  lies  his  game, 

If  Colin's  Jenny  be  at  hame. 

My  lady's  white,  my  lady's  red, 
And  kith  and  kin  o'  Cassillis'  blude  ; 
But  her  ten-pund  lands  o'  tocher  gude 
Were  a'  the  charms  his  lordship  lo'ed. 

Out  o'er  yon  muir,  out  o'er  yon  moss, 
Whare  gor-cocks  thro'  the  heather  pass, 
There  wons  auld  Colin's  bonie  lass, 
A  lily  in  a  wilderness. 

Sae  sweetly  move  her  genty  limbs, 
Like  music-notes  o'  lovers'  hymns: 
The  diamond-dew  in  her  een  sae  blue, 
Where  laughing  love  sae  wanton  swims. 

My  lady  's  dink,  my  lady  's  drest, 
The  flower  and  fancy  o'  the  west ; 
But  the  lassie  that  a  man  lo'es  best, 
O,  that 's  the  lass  to  mak  him  blest ! 


154 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  172.    The  heather  was  blooming. 

Tune  :   The  Tailors  March. 


Cheerily 


The       heath-er    was  blooming,  the  meadows  were  mawn,  Our     lads  gaed 


a  -  hunt  -  ing  ae     day    at      the  dawn,  O'er  moors  and  o'er  moss  -  es  and 


mon  -  ie     a    glen  ;  At  length  they  dis  -  cov  -  er'd    a      bon  -  ie  moor-hen. 


CHORUS.      /      rede    you,  be-ware  at  the  hunt-ing  young  men !  I    rede   you    be    - 


ware     at    the  hunting,  young  men !  Take  some  on    the       wing^      and 


some    as  they  spring^  But    can-ni-ly  steal  on    a       bon-ie    moor-hen. 

THE  heather  was  blooming,  the  meadows  were  mawn, 
Our  lads  gaed  a-hunting  ae  day  at  the  dawn, 
O'er  moors  and  o'er  mosses  and  monie  a  glen  ; 
At  length  they  discover'd  a  bonie  moor-hen. 

CHORUS.     /  rede  you,  beware  at  the  hunting,  young  men  • 
I  rede  you,  beware  at  the  hunting,  young  men ! 
Take  some  on  the  wing,  and  some  as  they  spring, 
But  cannily  steal  on  a  bonie  moor-hen. 

Sweet-brushing  the  dew  from  the  brown  heather  bells, 
Her  colours  betrayed  her  on  yon  mossy  fells ; 
Her  plumage  outlustred  the  pride  o'  the  spring, 
And  O  !    as  she  wanton'd  sae  gay  on  the  wing, 

Auld  Phoebus  himsel,  as  he  peeped  o'er  the  hill, 

In  spite  at  her  plumage  he  tried  his  skill ; 

He  levell'd  his  rays  where  she  bask'd  on  the  brae — 

His  rays  were  outshone,  and  but  mark'd  where  she  lay. 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


They  hunted  the  valley,  they  hunted  the  hill, 
The  best  of  our  lads  wi'  the  best  o'  their  skill ; 
But  still  as  the  fairest  she  sat  in  their  sight, 
Then,  whirr !    she  was  over,  a  mile  at  a  flight. 


No.  173.    Weary  fa  you,  Duncan  Gray. 


Tune  :  Duncan  Gray. 

Moderately 


(OLD  WORDS.) 

Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751,  iii.  p.  8. 
tr 


M          MVUfTWStJ  N       V 


Wea  -  ry      fa'    you,     Dun  -  can  Gray !  Ha,     ha,    the  gird  -  in     o't !  Wae 
tr 


gae    by  you,  Dun-can  Gray !     Ha,   ha,     the  gird  -  in  o't !     When       a'    the 


lave       gae       to    their  play,    Then     I    maun  sit     the     lee  -  lang  day,  And 
/T\ 


jeeg  the     era  •  die     wi'     my     tae,     and        a'      for     the  gird  -  in      o't 


WEARY  fa*  you,  Duncan  Gray ! 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't ! 
Wae  gae  by  you,  Duncan  Gray ! 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't ! 
When  a'  the  lave  gae  to  their  play, 
Then  I  maun  sit  the  lee-lang  day, 
And  jeeg  the  cradle  wi'  my  tae, 

And  a'  for  the  girdin  o't ! 


Bonie  was  the  Lammas  moon — 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't ! 
Glowrin  a'  the  hills  aboon, — 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't ! 
The  girdin  brak,  the  beast  cam  down, 
I  tint  my  curch  and  baith  my  shoon, 
And,  Duncan,  ye're  an  unco  loun — 
Wae  on  the  bad  girdin  o't ! 


But  Duncan,  gin  ye'll  keep  your  aith, 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't ! 
I'se  bless  you  wi'  my  hindmost  breath, 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't ! 
Duncan,  gin  ye'll  keep  your  aith, 
The  beast  again  can  bear  us  baith, 
And  auld  Mess  John  will  mend  the  skaith 

And  clout  the  bad  girdin  o't. 


156 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  1 74.     Wi  braw  new  branks  in  meikle  pride. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

Wi'  braw  new  branks  in  meikle  pride, 

And  eke  a  braw  new  brechan, 
My  Pegasus  I'm  got  astride, 

And  up  Parnassus  pechin  ; 
Whiles  owre  a  bush  wi'  downward  crush 

The  doited  beastie  stammers ; 
Then  up  he  gets,  and  off  he  sets 

For  sake  o'  Willie  Chalmers. 

I  doubt  na,  lass,  that  weel-kenn'd  name 

May  cost  a  pair  o'  blushes ; 
I  am  nae  stranger  to  your  fame, 

Nor  his  warm-urged  wishes  : 
Your  bonie  face,  sae  mild  and  sweet, 

His  honest  heart  enamours ; 
And  faith  !  ye'll  no  be  lost  a  whit, 

Tho'  wair'd  on  Willie  Chalmers. 

Auld  Truth  hersel  might  swear  ye're  fair, 

And  Honor  safely  back  her  ; 
And  Modesty  assume  your  air, 

And  ne'er  a  ane  mistak  her  : 
And  sic  twa  love-inspiring  een 

Might  fire  even  holy  palmers; 
Nae  wonder  then  they've  fatal  been 

To  honest  Willie  Chalmers. 

I  doubt  na  Fortune  may  you  shore 

Some  mim-mou'd,  pouther'd  priestie, 
Fu'  lifted  up  wi'  Hebrew  lore, 

And  band  upon  his  breastie  : 
But  O,  what  signifies  to  you 

His  lexicons  and  grammars? 
The  feeling  heart's  the  royal  blue, 

And  that's  wi'  Willie  Chalmers. 

Some  gapin,  glowrin  countra  laird 

May  warsle  for  your  favour ; 
May  claw  his  lug,  and  straik  his  beard, 

And  hoast  up  some  palaver. 
My  bonie  maid,  before  ye  wed 

Sic  clumsy-witted  hammers, 
Seek  Heaven  for  help,  and  barefit  skelp 

Awa'  wi'  Willie  Chalmers. 

Forgive  the  Bard !    my  fond  regard 

For  ane  that  shares  my  bosom 
Inspires  my  Muse  to  gie'm  his  dues, 

For  deil  a  hair  I  roose  him. 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


157 


May  powers  aboon  unite  you  soon, 
And  fructify  your  amours, 

And  every  year  come  in  mair  dear 
To  you  and  Willie  Chalmers! 


No.  175.    /  am  my  mammy  s  ae  bairn. 

Tune  :  Pm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  107. 
Gaily 


I      am    my  mammy's     ae     bairn,  Wi'    un-co    folk      I    wea-ry,  sir, 


1 


And      ly  -  ing     in      a       man's  bed,  I'm  fley'd  it    mak  me  eer  -  ie,     sir. 


CHORUS.    Pm      o'er  young,  Pm    o'er   young,  Pm    o'er    young    to    mar-ry    yet  I 


Pm      o^er  yoitng^  ''twad  be    a   sin     To     tak    me  frae  my  mammy    yet. 

I  AM  my  mammy's  ae  bairn, 

Wi'  unco  folk  I  weary,  sir, 
And  lying  in  a  man's  bed, 

I'm  fley'd  it  mak  me  eerie,  sir. 

CHORUS.     Fm  o'er  young,  Fin  o?er  young, 
rm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet ! 
Tm  o'er  young,  ''twad  be  a  sin 
To  tak  me  frae  my  mammy  yet. 

Hallowmas  is  come  and  gane, 

The  nights  are  lang  in  winter,  sir ; 

And  you  an'  I  in  ae  bed — 

In  trowth,  I  dare  na  venture,  sir. 

Fu'  loud  and  shill  the  frosty  wind 
Blaws  thro'  the  leafless  timmer,  sir, 

But  if  ye  come  this  gate  again, 
I'll  aulder  be  gin  simmer,  sir. 


158 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  1 76.    There  was  a  lass,  they  odd  her  Meg. 

Tune  :   Yell  ay  be  welcome  back  again.       Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1759,  p.  56. 
Merrily 


There  was      a    lass,  they  ca'd  her  Meg,  And    she  held  o'er  the  moors  to    spin 


There    was    a       lad    that  fol-low'd  her,  They    ca'd  him  Dun-can    Da  -  vi  -  son. 
tr 


The    moor  was  dreigh,  and  Meg  was  skeigh,  Her 
tr 


fa  -  vour  Dun  -  can  could  -  na 
tr 


win  ;  For     wi'     the  rock  she  wad  him  knock,  And  ay  she  shook  the  tern  -per  -  pin. 

THERE  was  a  lass,  they  ca'd  her  Meg, 

And  she  held  o'er  the  moors  to  spin  ; 
There  was  a  lad  that  follow'd  her, 

They  ca'd  him  Duncan  Davison. 
The  moor  was  dreigh,  and  Meg  was  skeigh, 

Her  favour  Duncan  couldna  win; 
For  wi'  the  rock  she  wad  him  knock, 

And  ay  she  shook  the  temper-pin. 

As  o'er  the  moor  they  lightly  foor, 

A  burn  was  clear,  a  glen  was  green  ; 
Upon  the  banks  they  eas'd  their  shanks, 

And  ay  she  set  the  wheel  between  : 
But  Duncan  swoor  a  haly  aith. 

That  Meg  should  be  a  bride  the  morn  ; 
Then  Meg  took  up  her  spinnin  graith, 

And  flang  them  a'  out  o'er  the  burn. 

We  will  big  a  wee,  wee  house, 

And  we  will  live  like  king  and  queen, 
Sae  blythe  and  merry  's  we  will  be, 

When  ye  set  by  the  wheel  at  e'en  ! 
A  man  may  drink,  and  no  be  drunk  ; 

A  man  may  fight,  and  no  be  slain  ; 
A  man  may  kiss  a  bonie  lass, 

And  ay  be  welcome  back  again ! 


in.    LOVE:  HUMOROUS 


No.  177.    The  blude-red  rose  at  Yule  may  blaw. 

Tune :   To  daunton  me.         Col.  Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  p.  16. 

Slow 


CHORUS.    To  daun  -  ton     me^        to       daun  •      ton     me^      An        auld      man 

tr 


shall     never     daun  •  ton     me.  The  blude-red     rose     at    Yule     may 


blaw,  The  sim  -  mer      lil  -  lies  bloom      in    snaw,    The      frost    may  freeze    the 


deep  -   est    sea  ;  But  an     auld  man  shall  nev      -      er        daun  -  ton      me. 


CHORUS.      To  daunton  me,  to  daunton  me, 

An  auld  man  shall  never  daunton  me. 

THE  blude-red  rose  at  Yule  may  blaw, 
The  simmer  lilies  bloom  in  snaw, 
The  frost  may  freeze  the  deepest  sea, 
But  an  auld  man  shall  never  daunton  me. 

To  daunton  me,  and  me  sae  young, 
Wi'  his  fause  heart  and  flatt'ring  tongue  : 
That  is  the  thing  you  ne'er  shall  see, 
For  an  auld  man  shall  never  daunton  me. 

For  a'  his  meal  and  a'  his  maut, 
For  a'  his  fresh  beef  and  his  saut, 
For  a'  his  gold  and  white  monie, 
An  auld  man  shall  never  daunton  me. 

His  gear  may  buy  him  kye  and  yowes, 
His  gear  may  buy  him  glens  and  knowes  ; 
But  me  he  shall  not  buy  nor  fee, 
For  an  auld  man  shall  never  daunton  me. 

He  hirples  twa  fauld  as  he  dow, 
Wi'  his  teethless  gab  and  his  auld  beld  pow, 
And  the  rain  rains  down  frae  his  red  blear'd  e'e 
That  auld  man  shall  never  daunton  me. 


i6o 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  178.    Her  daddie  forbad,  her  minnie  forbad. 

Tune  :  Jumpin  John.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  138. 
Brisk 


v    9 


Her    dad-die  for  -  bad,    her  min-nie  for-bad  ;    For-bid-den  she   wad  -  na 


w  ^  v  9 


. 

be :        She      wad-na  trow't  the  browst  she  brew'd  Wad  taste  sae    bit  -  ter  - 

CHORUS. 


lie!      The  lang  lad  they  ca?  Jumpin  John  Beguir d  the  bo-nie  las  -  sie  I 


The   lang  lad  they     ca1  Jumpin  John  Begtiir d  the   bo-nie  las  -  sie! 

HER  daddie  forbad,  her  minnie  forbad  ; 

Forbidden  she  wadna  be  : 
She  wadna  trow't  the  browst  she  brew'd 

Wad  taste  sae  bitterlie  ! 

CHORUS.     The  lang  lad  they  ca'  Jumpin  John 

BeguiVd  the  bonie  lassie! 
The  lang  lad  they  ca"1  Jumpin  John 
BeguiVd  the  bonie  lassie! 

A  cow  and  a  cauf,  a  yowe  and  a  hauf, 

And  thretty  gude  shillins  and  three  ; 
A  vera  gude  tocher,  a  cottar-man's  dochter, 

The  lass  wi'  the  bonie  black  e'e. 


No.  179.   Duncan  Gray  cam  here  to  woo. 

Tune  :  Duncan  Gray  (see  No.  173). 

DUNCAN  Gray  cam  here  to  woo 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 
On  blythe  yule-night  when  we  were  fou 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 
Maggie  coost  her  head  fu'  high, 
Look'd  asklent  and  unco  skeigh, 
Gart  poor  Duncan  stand  abeigh — 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


161 


Duncan     fleech'd,     and     Duncan 
pray'd — 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 
Meg  was  deaf  as  Ailsa  Craig 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 
Duncan  sigh'd  baith  out  and  in, 
Grat  his  een  baith  bleer't  and  blin', 
Spak  o'  lowpin  o'er  a  linn — 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't  1 

Time  and  chance  are  but  a  tide, 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 

Slighted  love  is  sair  to  bide 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 

'Shall  I,  like  a  fool,'  quoth  he, 

'  For  a  haughty  hizzie  die  ? 

She  may  gae  to — France  for  me  ! — 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 


How  it  conies,  let  doctors  tell, 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 
Meg  grew  sick,  as  he  grew  hale 

Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't ! 
Something  in  her  bosom  wrings, 
For  relief  a  sigh  she  brings, 
And    O !    her    een    they    spak    sic 

things ! — 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't. 

Duncan  was  a  lad  o'  grace, 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't, 

Maggie's  was  a  piteous  case, 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't : 

Duncan  couldna  be  her  death, 

Swelling  pity  smoor'd  his  wrath  ; 

Now  they're  crouse  and  canty  baith  — 
Ha,  ha,  the  wooing  o't. 


No.  1 80.    Hey  the  dusty  miller. 

Tune  :  Dusty  miller.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  144. 
Quickly 


1 


Hey    the  dus-ty    mil  -  ler  And  his    dus  -  ty     coat;      He  will  win    a 


shil-ling    Or    he   spend  a      groat:      Dus-ty  was   the     coat,        Dus-ty 


was  the     colour,    Dus  •  ty  was   the  kiss  That    I     gat   frae  the    mil  -  ler. 


HEY  the  dusty  miller 

And  his  dusty  coat ; 
He  will  win  a  shilling 
Or  he  spend  a  groat  : 
Dusty  was  the  coat, 

Dusty  was  the  colour, 
Dusty  was  the  kiss 

That  I  gat  frae  the  miller. 


Hey  the  dusty  miller 

And  his  dusty  sack ; 
Leeze  me  on  the  calling 
Fills  the  dusty  peck. 
Fills  the  dusty  peck, 

Brings  the  dusty  siller; 
I  wad  gie  my  coatie 
For  the  dusty  miller. 


162 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  1 8 1.    /  gaed  up  to  Dunse. 

Tune  :  Rob  shear1  din  hairst.         CaL  Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  p.  n. 
Brisk 


m 


CHORUS.  Rob  -  in  shure  in  hairst^     I      shure    wf    hint;    Fient    a    heuk  had 

Fine. 


2=^ 


I  stack   by     hint.          I  gaed    up     to  Dunse    To     warp  a 

D.C. 


3 


EEEE£^ 


wab    o'  plaid-en ;   At   his    dad-dy1s  yett     Wha    met     me    but    Ro  •  bin ! 


CHORUS.    Robin  shure  in  hairst, 

I  shure  wC  him  ; 
Fient  a  heuk  had  7, 
Yet  I  stack  by  him. 

I  gaed  up  to  Dunse 

To  warp  a  wab  o'  plaiden ; 
At  his  daddy's  yett 

Wha  met  me  but  Robin ! 


Was  na  Robin  bauld, 
Tho'  I  was  a  cottar? 

Play'd  me  sic  a  trick, 

An'  me  the  Eller's  dochter! 

Robin  promis'd  me 

A'  my  winter  vittle; 
Fient  haet  he  had  but  three 

Guse  feathers  and  a  whittle ! 


No.  182.    My  love,  she's  but  a  lassie  yet. 

Tune  :  My  love,  she^s  but  a  lassie  yet.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  225. 
Lively 


^L 

My  love,  she 's  but    a     las  -  sie    yet,    My    love,  she 's  but   a     las-sie   yet; 


We'll  let  her  stand  a  year   or  twa,  She'll   no      be    hauf  sae    sau  •  cy    yet; 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


Wha   gets  her  needna    say  he'swoo'd,  But  he     may    say  he 's  bought  her 


MY  love,  she's  but  a  lassie  yet, 
My  love,  she 's  but  a  lassie  yet ; 

We'll  let  her  stand  a  year  or  twa, 
She'll  no  be  hauf  sae  saucy  yet ; 
I  rue  the  day  I  sought  her,  O ! 
I  rue  the  day  I  sought  her,  O  ! 

Wha  gets  her  needna  say  he's  woo'd, 
But  he  may  say  he  has  bought  her,  O  ! 

Come  draw  a  drap  o'  the  best  o't  yet, 
Come  draw  a  drap  o'  the  best  o't  yet; 

Gae  seek  for  pleasure  whar  ye  will, 
But  here  I  never  miss'd  it  yet. 
[We're  a'  dry  wi'  drinkin  o't, 
We're  a'  dry  wi'  drinkin  o't ; 

The  minister  kiss'd  the  fiddler's  wife — 
He  couldna  preach  for  thinkin  o't.] 


O! 


No.  183.   /  murder  hate  by  field  or  flood. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

I  MURDER  hate  by  field  or  flood, 

Tho'  glory's  name  may  screen  us ; 
In  wars  at  hame  I'll  spend  my  blood — 

Life-giving  wars  of  Venus. 
The  deities  that  I  adore 

Are  social  Peace  and  Plenty  ; 
I'm  better  pleas'd  to  make  one  more, 

Than  be  the  death  of  twenty. 

I  would  not  die  like  Socrates, 

For  all  the  fuss  of  Plato ; 
Nor  would  I  with  Leonidas, 

Nor  yet  would  I  with  Cato  : 
The  zealots  of  the  Church  and  State 

Shall  ne'er  my  mortal  foes  be ; 
But  let  me  have  bold  Zimri's  fate 

Within  the  arms  of  Cozbi. 
M  2 


164      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

No.  184.     Wha  is  that  at  my  bower-door? 

Tune  :  Lass,  an  I  come  nearthee.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  337. 


'  Wha      is    that      at  my  bower-door  ? '  '  O,   wha     is      it    but    Find-lay.' 


'Then    gae  your  gate,  ye'senae    be  here:'  '  In-deed,  maun  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 


'Whatmakye    sae  like     a  thief?'  'O,  come  and   see,' quo' Find-lay ;    'Be 


-    fore    the  morn  ye'll  work  mis-chief?'  'In-deed  will      I,'    quo'     Find-lay. 

'WHA  is  that  at  my  bower-door?' 

'O,  wha  is  it  but  Findlay?' 
1  Then  gae  your  gate,  ye'se  nae  be  here  : ' 

'  Indeed,  maun  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 
'What  mak  ye  sae  like  a  thief?' 

*  O,  come  and  see/  quo'  Findlay ; 
'  Before  the  morn  ye'll  work  mischief? ' 

'  Indeed  will  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 

*  Gif  I  rise  and  let  you  in  ' — 

'  Let  me  in,'  quo'  Findlay — 

*  Ye'll  keep  me  waukin  wi'  your  din  ? ' 

'Indeed  will  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 
1  In  my  bower  if  ye  should  stay ' — 

'Let  me  stay,'  quo'  Findlay; 
<I  fear  ye'll  bide  till  break  o'  day?'— 

'Indeed  will  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 

'  Here  this  night  if  ye  remain ' — 

'  I'll  remain,'  quo'  Findlay — 
'I  dread  ye'll  learn  the  gate  again?' — 

'Indeed  will  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 
'What  may  pass  within  this  bower' — 

'  Let  it  pass,'  quo'  Findlay  ; 
'Ye  maun  conceal  till  your  last  hour' — 

'  Indeed  will  I,'  quo'  Findlay. 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


No.  185.    There's  a  youth  in  this  city. 

Tune  :  Niel  Gow's  lament.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  258. 
Moderately 


There's  a    youth  in    this    ci  -  ty,    it    were    a    great  pi  -  ty  That  he    from 


our      las  -  sies  should  wan-der    a-wa;     For  he's     bon-ie    and  braw,    weel- 


fa- vor'd,with-a'.     An'  his    hair  has    a      na-tu-ral      buckle      and    a'. 


His    coat  is    the       hue      o'    his    bon-net   sae    blue,  His       feck  -  et    is 


N 


5 


white    as        the         new  -  driv-en  snaw,  His  hose  they      are      blae,    and  his 


shoon  like  the  slae,  And  his    clear    sil  -  ler  buck-les,  they  daz  -  zle    us      a' 

[THERE  's  a  youth  in  this  city,  it  were  a  great  pity 
That  he  from  our  lasses  should  wander  awa  ; 
For  he's  bonie  and  braw,  weel-favor'd  witha1, 
An'  his  hair  has  a  natural  buckle  an'  a'.] 
His  coat  is  the  hue  o'  his  bonnet  sae  blue, 
His  fecket  is  white  as  the  new-driven  snaw, 
His  hose  they  are  blae,  and  his  shoon  like  the  slae, 
And  his  clear  siller  buckles,  they  dazzle  us  a'. 

For  beauty  and  fortune  the  laddie 's  been  courtin ; 
Weel-featured,  weel-tocher'd,  weel-mounted,  an'  braw  ; 
But  chiefly  the  siller  that  gars  him  gang  till  her, 
The  penny  's  the  jewel  that  beautifies  a' ; 
There  's  Meg  wi'  the  mailen,  that  fain  wad  a  haen  him, 
And  Susie,  whase  daddy  was  laird  o'  the  ha' ; 
There  's  lang-tocher'd  Nancy  maist  fetters  his  fancy ; 
But  the  laddie's  dear  sel  he  lo'es  dearest  of  a'. 


166      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  1 8 6.    O,  meikle  thinks  my  hive  d  my  beauty. 

Tune:  The  highway  to  Edinburgh.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,1^0.312. 


£ 


O,      mei-kle  thinks  my  luve         o'       my  beau- ty,  And    mei-kle  thinks 


my  luve  o'        my    kin ;  But      lit  -  tie  thinks  my    luve  I 


ken  braw  -  lie   My        to-cher  's  the    jew  -  el     has      charms  for  him.        It 's 


i'       for      the     ap  •  pie   he'll     nour  -  ish     the     tree ;  It 's       a'     for      the 


hin  -  ey    he'll      cher-ish     the  bee;  My       lad-die's  sae   mei-kle   in        luve 


wi'     the      sil  -  ler,      He      can  -  na    hae     luve      to         spare     for   me 

O,  MEIKLE  thinks  my  luve  o'  my  beauty, 

And  meikle  thinks  my  luve  o'  my  kin  ; 
But  little  thinks  my  luve  I  ken  brawlie 

My  tocher  's  the  jewel  has  charms  for  him. 
[It 's  a'  for  the  apple  he'll  nourish  the  tree  ; 

It's  a'  for  the  hiney  he'll  cherish  the  bee!] 
My  laddie  's  sae  meikle  in  luve  wi1  the  siller, 

He  canna  hae  luve  to  spare  for  me  ! 

Your  proffer  o'  luve  's  an  airle-penny ! 

My  tocher 's  the  bargain  ye  wad  buy ; 
But  an  ye  be  crafty,  I  am  cunnin, 

Sae  ye  wi'  anither  your  fortune  may  try. 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


167 


[Ye're  like  to  the  timmer  o'  yon  rotten  wood, 
Ye're  like  to  the  bark  o'  yon  rotten  tree, 

Ye'll  slip  frae  me  like  a  knotless  thread, 

An'  ye'll  crack  your  credit  wi'  mair  nor  me !] 


No.  1.87.    Whare  are  you  gaun,  my  bonie  lass. 

Tune  :  A  waukrife  minnie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  288. 


1  Whare    are  you  gaun,  my    bon  -  ie  lass,  Whare  are  you  gaun,  my     bin  -  ey  ? ' 


iau  -  ci  -  lie,—  '  An      er-rand  for  my         min     -     nie.' 


She    answer'd  me  right  sau  -  ci  -  lie,—  '  An 


'WHARE  are  you  gaun,  my  bonie  lass, 
Whare  are  you  gaun,  my  hiney?' 

She  answer'd  me  right  saucilie, — 
'An  errand  for  my  minnie.1 

'  O,  whare  live  ye,  my  bonie  lass, 
O,  whare  live  ye,  my  hiney  ? ' 

'  By  yon  burnside,  gin  ye  maun  ken, 
In  a  wee  house  wi'  my  minnie.' 

But  I  foor  up  the  glen  at  e'en 

To  see  my  bonie  lassie ; 
And  lang  before  the  grey  morn  cam 

She  was  na  hauf  sae  saucie. 

O,  wearie  fa'  the  waukrife  cock, 
And  the  foumart  lay  his  crawin  ! 

He  wauken'd  the  auld  wife  frae  her  sleep 
A  wee  blink  or  the  dawin. 

An  angry  wife  I  wat  she  raise, 
And  o'er  the  bed  she  brocht  her; 

And  wi'  a  meikle  hazel  rung 

She  made  her  a  weel-pay'd  dochter. 

'  O,  fare-thee-weel,  my  bonie  lass  ! 

O,  fare-thee-weel,  my  hiney! 
Thou  art  a  gay  and  a  bonie  lass, 

But  thou  hast  a  waukrife  minnie  ! ' 


i68 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  1 8  8.    My  heart  is  a- breaking,  dear  Tit  tie. 

Tune  :  Tatn  Glen.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  296. 
Brisk 


IP? 


My  heart  is       a  -  break-ing,  dear  Tit  -  tie,  Some  coun-sel    un  -  to  me  come 


len1 :   To     an-ger  them  a'    is     a     pi  -  ty,  But  what  will    I    do  wi'  Tarn  Glen  ? 


MY  heart  is  a-breaking,  dear  Tittie, 
Some  counsel  unto  me  come  len' : 

To  anger  them  a'  is  a  pity, 

But  what  will  I  do  wi'  Tarn  Glen? 

I'm  thinking,  wi'  sic  a  braw  fellow 
In  poortith  I  might  mak  a  fen' : 

What  care  I  in  riches  to  wallow, 
If  I  mauna  marry  Tarn  Glen? 

There's  Lowrie  the  Laird  o'  Dummeller; 

*  Guid  day  to  you ' ; — brute  !   he  comes  ben 
He  brags  and  he  blaws  o'  his  siller, 

But  when  will  he  dance  like  Tarn  Glen? 

My  minnie  does  constantly  deave  me, 
And  bids  me  beware  o'  young  men  : 

They  flatter,  she  says,  to  deceive  me  : 
But  wha  can  think  sae  o'  Tarn  Glen? 

My  daddie  says,  gin  I'll  forsake  him, 
He'd  gie  me  guid  hunder  marks  ten: 

But  if  it 's  ordain'd  I  maun  take  him, 
O,  wha  will  I  get  but  Tarn  Glen  ? 

Yestreen  at  the  valentines'  dealing, 
My  heart  to  my  mou'  gied  a  sten, 

For  thrice  I  drew  ane  without  failing, 
And  thrice  it  was  written — '  Tarn  Glen  ' ! 

The  last  Hallowe'en  I  was  waukin 
My  droukit  sark-sleeve,  as  ye  ken  ; 

His  likeness  came  up  the  house  staukin, 
And  the  very  grey  breeks  o'  Tarn  Glen  ! 

Come,  counsel,  dear  Tittie,  don't  tarry ! 

I'll  gie  ye  my  bonny  black  hen, 
'       Gif  ye  will  advise  me  to  marry 

The  lad  I  lo'e  dearly— Tarn  Glen. 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


169 


No.  189.    They  snool  me  sair,  and  haiid  me  down. 

Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1752,  iv.  p.  8. 


Tune :   The  moudiewart. 
Brisk 


CHORUS.    An1       O,     for     ane  -  and  -  twen-ty,  Tarn  I  And    hey^    sweet  ane  -  and- 

tr 


-&- 


•  ty^  Tarn  I  Pll    learn    my     kin      a         ratt  -  lin    sang  An        I 
Fine. 


saw     ane  -  and- twen-ty,  Tarn.    They    snool     me      sair,     and     baud    me 


down,    And     gar        me    look     like     blun-tie, Tarn;  But  three  short  years 

D.C 


I 


will       soon  wheel  roun'—  And     then    comes  ane  -  and  -  twen  -  ty,  Tarn ! 

CHORUS*     An1  O,  for  ane-and-twenty,   Tarn ! 

And  hey,  sweet  ane-and-twenty,   Tarn ! 
ril  learn  my  kin  a  rattlin  sang 
An  I  saw  ane-and-twenty,   Tarn. 

THEY  snool  me  sair,  and  baud  me  down, 

And  gar  me  look  like  bluntie,  Tarn; 
But  three  short  years  will  soon  wheel  roun' — 

And  then  comes  ane-and-twenty,  Tarn ! 

A  gleib  o'  Ian',  a  claut  o'  gear 

Was  left  me  by  my  auntie,  Tarn  : 
At  kith  or  kin  I  needna  spier, 

An  I  saw  ane-and-twenty,  Tarn. 

They'll  hae  me  wed  a  wealthy  coof, 

Tho'  I  mysel  hae  plenty,  Tarn  ; 
But  hear'st  thou,  laddie  !    there 's  my  loof ; 

I'm  thine  at  ane-and-twenty,  Tarn ! 


1 7o 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  190.  But  warily  tent  when  ye  come  to  court  me. 

Tune  :  Whistle  an"1  ril  come  to  ye,  my  lad.      Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1788,  No.  106. 
Lively 


CHORUS.    O,      whistle    an"     7V/   come     to    ye,    my  lad!    O,     whistle 


7V/    come   to     ye}    my  lad!  Tho1  fa-ther  art  mo-ther  art    a1  should  gae 

Fine. 


Pi§ 


mad,     O,     whistle  art    7V/  come  to  ye,  my  lad!     But    war  -  i  -  ly  tent 


when  ye  come  to  court  me,    And   come  nae  un-Iess  the  back-yett  be    a  -  jee ; 


Syne   up    the  back-style,  and  let  nae  -  bo  -  dy  see,    And  come  as  ye     were 

D.C. 


na    com  -in    to     me.    And  come  as     ye      were    na    com-  in      to    me. 


CHORUS.     O,  whistle  an1  I'll  come  to  ye,  my  lad! 
O,  whistle  an'  Pll  come  to  ye,  my  lad  I 
Tho"1  father  an1  mother  an"1  a'  should  gae  mad, 
O,  whistle  an'  Fll  come  to  ye,  my  lad  ! 

BUT  warily  tent  when  ye  come  to  court  me, 
And  come  nae  unless  the  back-yett  be  a-jee  ; 
Syne  up  the  back-style,  and  let  naebody  see, 
And  come  as  ye  were  na  comin  to  me.  6/5 

At  kirk,  or  at  market,  whene'er  ye  meet  me, 
Gang  by  me  as  tho1  that  ye  car'd  na  a  flie  ; 
But  steal  me  a  blink  o'  your  bonie  black  e'e, 
Yet  look  as  ye  were  na  looking  to  me.         bis 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


Ay  vow  and  protest  that  ye  care  na  for  me, 
And  whiles  ye  may  lightly  my  beauty  awee ; 
But  court  na  anither,  tho'  jokin  ye  be, 
For  fear  that  she  wile  your  fancy  frae  me. 


bis 


No.  1 9 1.    O,  when  she  cam  ben,  she  bobbed  fit  law  I 

Tune  :  When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit.       Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  353. 
Moderate 


O,     when     she  cam  ben,    she     bob  -  bed    fu'    law !    O,      when    she 


cam  ben,   she        bob  -  bed      fu'    law !    And       when  she  cam  ben,     she 


kiss'd  Cock  -  pen,    And    syne  she    de  -  ny'd     she         did     it       at      a'. 


[O,  WHEN  she  cam  ben,  she  bobbed  fu'  law! 
O,  when  she  cam  ben,  she  bobbed  fu'  law! 
And  when  she  cam  ben,  she  kiss'd  Cockpen, 
And  syne  she  deny'd  she  did  it  at  a'. 

And  was  na  Cockpen  right  saucy  witha'  ? 
And  was  na  Cockpen  right  saucy  witha'?] 
In  leaving  the  dochter  o'  a  lord, 
And  kissin  a  collier  lassie  an'  a'  ? 

O,  never  look  down,  my  lassie,  at  a' ! 
O,  never  look  down,  my  lassie,  at  a' ! 
Thy  lips  are  as  sweet,  and  thy  figure  complete, 
As  the  finest  dame  in  castle  or  ha'. 

Tho'  thou  hast  nae  silk,  and  holland  sae  sma', 
Tho'  thou  hast  riae  silk,  and  holland  sae  sma', 
Thy  coat  and  thy  sark  are  thy  ain  handywark, 
And  Lady  Jean  was  never  sae  braw. 


172 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  192.    O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  d  the  Mill 
has  gotten  ? 

(FIRST  VERSION.) 

Tune  :  O  ken  ye  what  Meg.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  566. 
Moderately 


O,         ken   ye  what  Meg    o'    the    Mill    has  got-ten  ?    An'      ken    ye  what 


7*- 
Meg    o'    the    Mill     has  got-ten?  A        braw    new  naig  wi'  the     tail     o'      a 


rot-tan,    And        that's  what  Meg  o'    the     Mill    has    got-ten !         O,      ken    ye 


what  Meg    o'    the    Mill    lo'es  dear-ly  ?  An'  ken    ye  what  Meg   o'     the      Mill 


lo'es      dear-ly?     A      dram       o'         gude  strunt 


a         morn  -  ing 


ear  -  ly,      And       that 's    what  Meg     o'      the       Mill         lo'es      dear  -  ly ! 


O,  KEN  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  has  gotten? 
An'  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  has  gotten  ? 
A  braw  new  naig  wi'  the  tail  o'  a  rottan, 
And  that's  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  has  gotten! 

O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  lo'es  dearly? 
An'  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  lo'es  dearly? 
A  dram  o'  gude  strunt  in  a  morning  early, 
And  that's  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  lo'es  dearly! 

O,  ken  you  how  Meg  o'  the  Mill  was  married? 
An'  ken  ye  how  Meg  o'  the  Mill  was  married? 
The  priest  he  was  oxter'd,  the  dark  he  was  carried, 
And  that 's  how  Meg  o'  the  Mill  was  married ! 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


173 


O,  ken  ye  how  Meg  o'  the  Mill  was  bedded? 
An'  ken  ye  how  Meg  o'  the  Mill  was  bedded? 
The  groom  gat  sae  fu',  he  fell  awald  beside  it, 
And  that 's  how  Meg  o'  the  Mill  was  bedded ! 


No.  193.    O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill 
has  gotten  ? 

(SECOND  VERSION.) 
Tune  :  O  bonie  lass,  will  ye  lie  in  a  barrack  1   Napier's  Scots  Songs,  1792,  ii.  p.  90. 


%ffy^^-^fe^t^^ 


O,  ken    ye  what  Meg    o1   the     Mill     has  gotten  ?  An'  ken   ye  what  Meg 


o'       the        Mill        has     got-ten  ?  She 's  gotten     a     coof  wi'     a       claut 


o'       sil  -  ler,  And  bro-ken  the  heart     o1       the         bar    -     ley       mil  -  ler ! 

O,  KEN  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  has  gotten? 
An*  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  Mill  has  gotten? 
She's  gotten  a  coof  wi'  a  claut  o'  siller, 
And  broken  the  heart  o'  the  barley  miller ! 

The  miller  was  strappin,  the  miller  was  ruddy, 
A  heart  like  a  lord,  and  a  hue  like  a  lady. 
The  laird  was  a  widdifu',  bleerit  knurl — 
She's  left  the  gude  fellow,  and  taen  the  churl! 

The  miller,  he  hecht  her  a  heart  leal  and  loving, 
The  laird  did  address  her  wi'  matter  mair  moving  ; 
A  fine  pacing  horse  wi'  a  clear,  chained  bridle, 
A  whip  by  her  side,  and  a  bonie  side-saddle. 

O,  wae  on  the  siller,  it  is  sae  prevailin, 
And  wae  on  the  love  that  is  fixed  on  a  mailen ! 
A  tocher's  nae  word  in  a  true  lover's  parl, 
But  gie  me  my  love  and  a  fig  for  the  warl ! 


174 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  194.    Cauld  is  the  eenin  blast. 

Tune  :  Peggy  Ramsay.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  583. 

Slowly 


Cauld    is    the  e'en  -  in  blast  O'       Bo  -  reas  o'er  the  pool,  An'    daw  -  in 


it      is     drea  -  ry  When  birks  are  bare    at-  Yule.     O,   cauld  blaws  the    e'en 


in  blast,  When    bit-ter    bites  the  frost,  And       in    the  mirk  and  drea  -  ry  drift, 


The     hills  and  glens  are  lost !   Ne'er  sae  mur-ky  blew  the  night  That  drift  -  ed 


o'er  the  hill,    But    bon  -  ie  Peg  -  a  -  Ram -say  Gat  grist     to    her    mill. 


CAULD  is  the  e'enin  blast 
O'  Boreas  o'er  the  pool, 

An'  dawin  it  is  dreary 

When  birks  are  bare  at  Yule. 

O,  cauld  blaws  the  e'enin  blast, 
When  bitter  bites  the  frost, 


And  in  the  mirk  and  dreary  drift, 
The  hills  and  glens  are  lost ! 

Ne'er  sae  murky  blew  the  night 
That  drifted  o'er  the  hill, 

But  bonie  Peg-a-Ramsay 
Gat  grist  to  her  mill. 


No.  195.    The  taylor  he  cam  here  to  sew. 

Tune:   The  Drummer.         Aird's  Airst  1782,  i.  No.  129. 
Lively 


The     tay  -  lor    he     cam   here    to    sew,  And  weel    he  kend    the       way 


to       woo,    For    ay      he  pree'd  the    las-sie's  mou',  As     he    gaed   but    and 


ben,    O.        For  weel  he  kend  the  way,  O,     The    way,  O,     the        way, 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


O !     For    weel    he  kend  the    way,      O,     The    las-sie's  heart  to     win,      O ! 


THE  taylor  he  cam  here  to  sew, 
And    weel    he    kend    the    way    to 

woo, 

For  ay  he  pree'd  the  lassie's  mou', 
As  he  gaed  but  and  ben,  O. 
For  weel  he  kend  the  way,  O, 
The  way,  O,  the  way,  O  ! 
For  weel  he  kend  the  way,  O, 
The  lassie's  heart  to  win,  O  ! 


The  taylor  rase  and  shook  his  duds, 
The  flaes  they  flew  awa  in  cluds ! 
And    them    that    stay'd    gat    fearfu' 

thuds,— 

The  taylor  prov'd  a  man,  O  ! 
For  now  it  was  the  gloamin, 
The  gloamin,  the  gloamin, 
For  now  it  was  the  gloamin, 
When  a*  to  rest  are  gaun,  O  ! 


No.  196.    O,  steer  her  up. 

Tune:  Steer  her  up.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  504. 
Merrily 


tt 


O,         steer  her    up,     an"    haud  her  gaun— Her       mither 's  at       the 


m 


mill,  jo,       An'    gin    she     win  -  na     tak     a    man,   E'en       let     her     tak 


her 


-jp-  —jf- .  ~^- 

will,  jo  :  First  shore  her  wi'    a      ge'n-tle  kiss,  And  ca1      a  -  nith  -  er 


~y  iP    .        1 1       i          i          i   i»  1 0     ji      TI 


gill,  jo,  An'  gin  she  tak  the  thing  a-miss,  E'en  let  her  flyte    her      fill,     jo. 


O,    STEER    her    up,   an'    haud    her 
gaun — 

Her  mither 's  at  the  mill,  jo, 
An'  gin  she  winna  tak  a  man, 

E'en  let  her  tak  her  will,  jo  : 
First  shore  her  wi'  a  gentle  kiss, 

And  ca'  anither  gill,  jo, 
An*  gin  she  tak  the  thing  amiss, 

E'en  let  her  flyte  her  fill,  jo. 


•  O,  steer  her  up,  an'  be  na  blate, 

An'  gin  she  tak  it  ill,  jo, 
Then  leave  the  lassie  till  her  fate, 

And  time  na  langer  spill,  jo  ! 
Ne'er  break  your  heart  for  ae-  re- 

bute, 

But  think  upon  it  still,  jo, 

That  gin  the  lassie  winna  do't, 

Ye'll  fin'  anither  will,  jo. 


i76 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  197.    What  can  a  yoitng  lassie? 

Tune :  What  shall  I  do  with  an  auld  man  ?      Scots  Mus.  Mus.,  1792,  No.  316. 
Merrily 


m^ 


What  can       a  young  las  -  sie,  what  shall    a  young  las  -  sie,  What  can      a  young 


las  -  sie  do     wi'    an   auld  man  1  Bad  luck  on      the  pen-  ny  that  tempt-ed  my 


min-nie    To      sell  her  puir  Jen-ny    for     sil-ler    an' Ian' !  Bad  luck  on  the  pen     - 


ny   that  tempted  my  min-nie   To     sell   her  puir  Jen  -  ny  for     sil  -  ler    an'  Ian' 


WHAT  can  a  young  lassie,  w.hat  shall  a  young  lassie, 
What  can  a  young  lassie  do  wi'  an  auld  man? 

Bad  luck  on  the  penny  that  tempted  my  minnie  1  ,  . 
To  sell  her  puir  Jenny  for  siller  an'  Ian'!          ) 


He's  always  compleenin  frae  mornin  to  e'enin  ; 

He  hoasts  and  he  hirples  the  weary  day  lang  : 
He  's  doylt  and  he  's  dozin  ;   his  blude  it  is  frozen, 

O,  dreary  's  the  night  wi'  a  crazy  auld  man  ! 


He  hums  and  he  hankers,  he  frets  and  he  cankers, 
I  never  can  please  him,  do  a'  that  I  can  : 

He  's  peevish  an'  jealous  of  a'  the  young  fellows  :  )  ,  . 
O,  dool  on  the  day  I  met  wi1  an  auld  man  !        ) 

My  auld  auntie  Katie  upon  me  taks  pity, 
I'll  do  my  endeavour  to  follow  her  plan  : 

I'll  cross  him  and  wrack  him,  until  I  heartbreak  him,  )  ^  . 
And  then  his  auld  brass  will  buy  me  a  new  pan.    ) 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


I77 


No.  198.   Aw  a  wV  your  witchcraft  o   Beaiity's 
alarms. 

Tune  :  Balin  a  mone.        Thumoth's  English  and  Irish  Airs,  c.  1760,  p.  26. 


A  •  wa'    wi'  your  witch-craft  o'    Beau  -  ty's  a  •  larms,  The  slen  -  der   bit 


bea»-ty  you  grasp   in    your  arms,  O,    gie    me   the     lass  that  has  acres  o' 

CHORUS. 


charms  !    O,    gie    me  the  lass   wi'  the  weel-stock-it  farms !  Then    hey  foi 


a  fass  wf    a  toch  -  er^  Then  hey  for  a  lass  wf    a    took  •  er^  Then  hey  for 

K.  TN 


^-«l 

a    lass  W?    a)     toch-er^     The  nice   yel-low  guin-eas  for         me! 


AWA'  wi'  your  witchcraft  o1  Beauty's  alarms, 
The  slender  bit  beauty  you  grasp  in  your  arms, 
O,  gie  me  the  lass  that  has  acres  o'  charms ! 
O,  gie  me  the  lass  wi'  the  weel-stockit  farms  !   . 

CHORUS.     Then  hey  for  a  lass  w?  a  tocher, 
Then  hey  for  a  lass  w?  a  tocher, 
Then  hey  for  a  lass  wi'  a  tocher, 
The  nice  yellow  guineas  for  me ! 

Your  Beauty's  a  flower  in  the  morning  that  blows, 
And  withers  the  faster  the  faster  it  grows ; 
But  the  rapturous  charm  o'  the  bonie  green  knowes, 
Ilk  Spring  they're  new  deckit  wi'  bonie  white  yowes ! 

And  e'en  when  this  beauty  your  bosom  has  blest, 
The  brightest  o'  beauty  may  cloy  when  possess'd  ; 
But  the  sweet,  yellow  darlings  wi'  Geordie  impress'd, 
The  langer  ye  hae  them,  the  mair  they're  carest ! 

N 


i78 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  199.    Had  I  the  wyte. 

Tune  :  Come  kiss  with  me.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  39. 
Briskly 


Had     I      the  wyte,  had     I     the  wyte,  Had    I   the  wyte?— she  bade  me;  She 


zfcfeic&ES: 


— r- 


watch'd  me     by     the     hie  -  gate  side,   And    up     the  loan    she  shaw'd  me  ;  And 


when    I     wad  -  na     ven  -  ture    in,    A      cow  -  ard  loon  she     ca'd    me :   Had 


kirk    and  state  been      in     the  gate,   I'd    light  -  ed  when    she    bade    me. 


HAD  I  the  wyte,  had  I  the  wyte, 

Had  I  the  wyte  f — she  bade  me  ; 
She  watch'd  me  by  the  hie-gate  side, 

And  up  the  loan  she  shaw'd  me ; 
And  when  I  wadna  venture  in, 

A  coward  loon  she  ca'd  me  : 
Had  kirk  and  state  been  in  the  gate, 

I'd  lighted  when  she  bade  me. 

Sae  craftilie  she  took  me  ben 

And  bade  me  mak  nae  clatter: — 
'  For  our  ramgunshoch,  glum  guidman 

Is  o'er  ayont  the  water :  * 
Whae'er  shall  say  I  wanted  grace, 

When  I  did  kiss  and  dawte  her, 
Let  him  be  planted  in  my  place, 

Syne  say  I  was  the  fautor! 

Could  I  for  shame,  could  I  for  shame, 

Could  I  for  shame  refus'd  her? 
And  wadna  manhood  been  to  blame 

Had  I  unkindly  used  her? 
He  claw'd  her  wi'  the  ripplin-kame, 

And  blae  and  bluidy  bruised  her — 
When  sic  a  husband  was  frae  hame, 

What  wife  but  wad  excused  her? 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


I79 


I  dighted  ay  her  een  sae  blue, 

An'  bann'd  the  cruel  randy  ; 
And,  weel  I  wat,  her  willin  mou* 

Was  sweet  as  sugar-candy. 
At  gloamin-shot  it  was",   I  wot, 

I  lighted  on  the  Monday, 
But  I  cam  thro1  the  Tyesday's  dew 

To  wanton  Willie's  brandy. 


No.  200.    Gat  ye  me,  O,  gat  ye  me. 

Tune  :  Jack  Latin.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  430. 

Jovially  ».  ^  , 


£^ 


Gat       ye     me,    O,    gat    ye    me,    O,     gat    ye    me     wi'    naething? 


Rock      an'    reel,    an1  spin-rung  wheel,  A      mic-kle  quar-ter       ba   -    son: 


for  -  bye    my  bon  -  ie 


EC  -  cle  -  fe  -   chan.* 


1  GAT  ye  me,   O,  gat  ye  me, 

O,  gat  ye  me  wi'  naething? 
Rock  an'  reel,  an'  spinning  wheel, 

A  mickle  quarter  bason  : 
Bye  attour,  my  gutcher  has 

A  heich  house  and  a  laigh  ane, 
A1  forbye  my  bonie  sel, 

The  toss  o'  Ecclefechan.' 

*  O,  haud  your  tongue  now,  Lucky  Lang, 

O,  haud  your  tongue  and  jauner ! 
I  held  the  gate  till  you  I  met, 

Syne  I  began  to  wander : 
I  tint  my  whistle  and  my  sang, 

I  tint  my  peace  and  pleasure ; 
But  your  green  graff,  now  Lucky  Lang, 

Wad  airt  me  to  my  treasure.' 
N  a 


i8o 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  20 1.    Last  May  a  braiv  wooer. 

Tune  :  The  Lothian  lassie.        Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  p.  52. 
Lively 


Last    May      a  bravv  woo  -  er  cam    down   the  lang  glen,  And     sair     wi' 


his    love     he       did      deave    me.       I  said    there  was     nae-thing      I 


3=tF— FT- »;-Fr->— ^s-hF?1 
?t=iF±^:V^!=^=iP::*-J=:aU 


hat  -  ed    like      men—    The      deuce    gae    wi'    him       to    be   -  lieve    me, 


be  -  lieve     me  —  The    deuce    gae       wi'      him,        to      be    -   lieve      me! 


LAST  May  a  braw  wooer  cam  down  the  lang  glen, 

And  sair  wi'  his  love  he  did  deave  me. 
I  said  there  was  naething  I  hated  like  men  — 

The  deuce  gae  wi'm  to  believe  me,  believe  me  — 

The  deuce  gae  wi'm,  to  believe  me  ! 

He  spak  o'  the  darts  in  my  bonie  black  een, 

And  Vow'd  for  my  love  he  was  diein. 
I  said,  he  might  die  when  he  liket  for  Jean  — 

The  Lord  forgie  me  for  liein,  for  liein  — 

The  Lord  forgie  me  for  liein  ! 

A  weel-stocket  mailen,  himsel  for  the  laird, 

And  marriage  aff-hand  were  his  proffers  ; 
I  never  loot  on  that  I  kenn'd  it,  or  car'd, 

But  thought  I  might  hae  waur  offers,  waur  offers  — 

But  thought  I  might  hae  waur  offers. 

But  what  wad  ye  think?  —  in  a  fortnight  or  less  — 

The  deil  tak  his  taste  to  gae  near  her  — 
He  up  the  lang  loan  to  my  black  cousin,  Bess, 

Guess  ye  how,  the  jad  !   I  could  bear  her,  could  bear  her- 

Guess  ye  how,  the  jad  !    I  could  bear  her. 

But  a'  the  neist  week,  as  I  petted  wi'  care, 

I  gaed  to  the  tryste  o'  Dalgarnock, 
And  wha  but  my  fine  fickle  lover  was  there? 

I  glowr'd  as  I'd  seen  a  warlock,  a  warlock, 

I  glowr'd  as  I'd  seen  a  warlock.         .      . 


III.     LOVE  I    HUMOROUS 


But  owre  my  left  shouther  I  gae  him  a  blink, 

Lest  neibors  might  say  I  was  saucy ; 
My  wooer  he  caper'd  as  he'd  been  in  drink, 

And  vow'd  I  was  his  dear  lassie,  dear  lassie — 

And  vow'd  I  was  his  dear  lassie. 

I  spier'd  for  my  cousin  fu'  couthy  and  sweet, 
Gin  she  had  recover'd  her  hearin  ? 

And  how  her  new  shoon  fit  her  auld,  shachl'd  feet? 
But  heavens !  how  he  fell  a  swearin,  a  swearin — 
But  heavens !  how  he  fell  a  swearin ! 

He  begged,  for  gudesake,  I  wad  be  his  wife, 

Or  else  I  wad  kill  him  wi'  sorrow ; 
So  e'en  to  preserve  the  poor  body  in  life, 

I  think  I  maun  wed  him  to-morrow,  to-morrow — 

I  think  I  maun  wed  him  to-morrow. 


No.  202.    Wantonness  for  evermair. 

fs  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No 


Tune  :  Wantonness.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  422. 
Slow  tr 


my         ru      •      in.        Yet       for        a1         my  dool  and    care      It's 


wan  -  ton  -  ness       for  ev  -  er  -  mair.  I         hae    lo'ed   the    Black, 


m 


$ 


the    Brown :       I        Ea'e   lo'ed    the     Fair,      the        Gow  -  den :        A' 


the 


co  -  lours      in      the  town     I   hae      won       their     wan  -  ton          fa  -  vour. 


WANTONNESS  for  evermair, 
Wantonness  has  been  my  ruin. 
Yet  for  a'  my  dool  and  care 
It's  wantonness  for  evermair. 


I  hae  lo'ed  the  Black,  the  Brown  ; 
I  hae  lo'ed  the  Fair,  the  Gowden; 
A'  the  colours  in  the  town — 
I  hae  won  their  wanton  favour. 


l82 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  203.    The  Robin  cam  to  the  Wrens  nest. 

Tune:  The  wrens  nest.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  406. 


2: 


The       Rob  -  in     catn      to    the  Wren's  nest     And     keek  -  it     in,      and 


5 


keek  -  it-        in ;       O,          weel  's    me        on         your       auld      pow,     Wad 


ye         be     in,        wad      ye      be      in?      Ye'se    ne'er    get  leave    to    lie    with  - 


3J=£=^l^^£=£=g^^^^^^= 


out,     And  I        with   -  in,        and         I      with  -  in;      Sae        lang's    I 


hae     an        auld    cloat      To        rowe      ye       in,          to      rowe    ye       in. 

THE  Robin  cam  to  the  Wren's  nest 

And  keekit  in,  and  keekit  in  ; 
O,  weel's  me  on  your  auld  pow, 

Wad  ye  be  in,  wad  ye  be  in? 
Ye'se  ne'er  get  leave  to  lie  without, 

And  I  within,  and  I  within  ; 
Sae  lang's  I  hae  an  auld  clout 

To  rowe  ye  in,  to  rowe  ye  in. 


No.  204.    Lassie  y  lend  me  your  draw  hemp  heckle. 

Tune  :  The  Bob  o'  Dumblane.        Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  45. 
Rather  slow 


Las  -  sie,    lend       me        your     braw    hemp  hec  -  kle,  And        I'll       lend 


you        my      thripp-ling-kame ;  My      hec  -  kle     is     brok  -  en,      It      can    - 


III.     LOVE  :   HUMOROUS 


I83 


na      be     got  •  ten,    And      we'll    gae    dance      the      Bob    o'  Dum-blane. 

LASSIE,  lend  me  your  braw  hemp  heckle, 

And  I'll  lend  you  my  thrippling-kame ; 
My  heckle  is  broken,  it  canna  be  gotten, 

And  we'll  gae  dance  the  Bob  o'  Dumblane, 

Twa  gaed  to  the  wood,  to  the  wood,  to  the  wood, 
Twa  gaed  to  the  wood— three  cam  hame ; 

An  it  be  na  weel  bobbit,  weel  bobbit,  weel  bobbit, 
An  it  be  na  weel  bobbit,  we'll  bob  it  again. 


No.  205.    My  daddie  was  a  fiddler  fine. 

Tune  :   The  reel  o"1  Stumpie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  457. 
Lively 


IL        L,iveiy 


CHORUS.     Wapandrowe^  wap  and  rowet  Wap  and  rowe  the     feetie     o't;    I 

Fine. 


thought  I   was    a      maid-en     fair,        Till  I  heard   the  greetie      o"t. 


-r-*- 


My    dad  -  die  was    a    fid  -  dler  fine,  My    min-nie  she  made  mantie,     O  ;  And 

D.C. 


IL  fc.       W  fci  «/•«•« 


I       rny  -  sel      a       thumpin  quine,  And  danc'd  the  reel     o1   Stumpie,      O. 

CHORUS.     Wap  and  rowe,  wap  and  rowe, 
Wap  and  rowe  the  feetie  ot; 
I  thought  I  was  a  maiden  fair. 
Till  I  heard  the  greetie  oV. 

MY  daddie  was  a  fiddler  fine, 

My  minnie  she  made  mantie,  O  ; 
And  I  mysel  a  thumpin  quine, 
And  danc'd  the  reel  o'  Stumpie,  O. 


184 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  206.    There's  news,  lasses,  neivs. 

Tune:  There's  news,  lasses.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No,  589. 
Briskly 


There's  news,  lass  -  es,  news,  Gude    news  I've    to     tell!  There's  a       boat 

CHORUS.     .* 


fu'     o'      lads   Come  to          our        town    to      sell !  The       wean 


•wants  a     era  •  dlet    And   the        era  •  die  wants  a     coat,       An*    7V/ 


gang      to     my     bed    Un  -    ///        /     get       a       nod. 


THERE'S  news,  lasses,  news, 

Gude  news  I've  to  tell ! 
There's  a  boatfu'  o'  lads 

Come  to  our  town  to  sell ! 

CHORUS.     The  wean  wants  a  cradle, 

And  the  cradle  wants  a  cod, 
An1  ril  no  gang  to  my  bed 
Until  I  get  a  nod, 

'Father,'  quo'  she,  'Mither,'  quo'  she, 

*  Do  what  you  can  : 
I'll  no  gang  to  my  bed 

Till  I  get  a  man !  * 

I  hae  as  gude  a  craft  rig 

As  made  o'  yird  and  stane ; 
And  waly  fa'  the  ley-crap, 

For  I  maun  till'd  again. 


III.     LOVE  :    HUMOROUS 


No.  207.    O,  Galloway  Tarn  cam  here  to  woo. 

Tune  :  Galloway  Tarn.         Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1754,  vi.  p.  25. 


O,      Gal  -  lo  -  way    Tarn     cam       here     to     woo;    I'd       ra  -  ther 

rg — — - — 


we'd  gien    him    the        braw  -  nit    cow ;    For         our       lass    Bess      may 


**= 


curse    and    ban     The       wan  -  ton      wit        o'      Gal  -  lo  -  way  Tarn. 


?=; 


O,       Gal  -  lo  -  way      Tarn     cam      here      to     shear;      I'd        ra  -  ther 


we'd  gien    him     the      gude    gray  mare;     He        kist    the    gude  -  wife 


Ife 


and  strack  the  gudeman ;  And  that's  the    tricks      o'     Gal  -  lo  -  way  Tarn. 


O,  GALLOWAY  Tarn  cam  here  to  woo; 
I'd  rather  we'd  gien  him  the  brawnit  cow ; 
For  our  lass  Bess  may  curse  and  ban 
The  wanton  wit  o'  Galloway  Tarn. 

O,  Galloway  Tarn  cam  here  to  shear ; 
I'd  rather  we'd  gien  him  the  gude  gray  mare ; 
He  kist  the  gudewife  and  strack  the  gudeman; 
Aud  that's  the  tricks  o'  Galloway  Tarn. 


i86 


TONE-POETRY   OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  208.    The  Collier  has  a  dochter. 

Tune  :  The  Collier's  bonie  lassie.        Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  44. 
Blythely 


The    Col  -  Her     has   a    doch-ter,  And     O,  she's  won- der  bon-ie!         A 


laird    he  was  that  sought  her,  Rich  baith    in      lands      and    mon  -  ey :      She 


wad   -  na        hae         a       laird,  Nor   wad  she    be     a      la  -  dy,    But     she 


wad     hae       a  col    -    lier  The       co  -  lor         o*     her     dad  -  die. 


THE  Collier  has  a  dochter, 

And  O,  she 's  wonder  bonie  ! 
A  laird  he  was  that  sought  her, 

Rich  baith  in  lands  and  money 
She  wadna  hae  a  laird, 

Nor  wad  she  be  a  lady, 
But  she  wad  hae  a  collier 

The  color  o'  her  daddie. 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


187 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


No.  209.   First  when  Maggie  was  my  care. 

Tune  :  Whistle  o'er  the  lave  oV.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  249. 
Slowly 


First  when  Mag  gie    was     my  care,  Heav'n,  I  thought,  was  in     her   air ; 

/TN 


Now  we're  mar-ried,    spier   nae  mair,  But    whis  -  tie  o'er    the    lave    o't ! 


Meg     was     meek,  and  Meg  was  mild,  Sweet  and  harm  -  less   as        a   child— 


Wis  -  er  men   than  me 's   be  -  guiled—    Whis  -  tie  o'er     the  lave     o't. 

FIRST  when  Maggie  was  my  care, 
Heav'n,  I  thought,  was  in  her  air ; 
Now  we're  married,  spier  nae  mair, 

But  whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't! 
Meg  was  meek,  and  Meg  was  mild, 
Sweet  and  harmless  as  a  child — 
Wiser  men  than  me's  beguiled — 

Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't. 

How  we  live,  my  Meg  and  me, 
How  we  love,  and  how  we  gree, 
I  care  na  by  how  few  may  see — 

Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't ! 
Wha  I  wish  were  maggots'  meat, 
Dish'd  up  in  her  winding  sheet, 
I  could  write— but  Meg  maun  see't— 

Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't. 


i88 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  210.    O,  some  will  court  and  compliment. 

Tune  :  John,  come  kiss  me  now.         Playford's  Skill  of  Music,  1674,  p.  120. 


O         John,   come  kiss  me     now,  now,  now  ;    O  John,    my     luve, 


come         kiss       me       now!       O       John,       come      kiss        me  by 


and 


by, 


For 


weel 


ye 


ken       the 


way 


to       woo  ! 


CHORUS.     O  John,  come  kiss  me  now,  now,  now  ; 
O  John,  my  luve,  come  kiss  me  now! 
O  John,  come  kiss  me  by  and  by, 
For  weel  ye  ken  the  way  to  wool 

O  SOME  will  court  and  compliment, 
And  ither  some  will  kiss  and  daut; 

But  I  will  mak  o'  my  gudeman, 
My  ain  gudeman,  —  it  is  nae  faute. 

O,  some  will  court  and  compliment, 
And  ither  some  will  prie  their  mou', 

And  some  will  hause  in  liber's  arms, 
And  that's  the  way  I  like  to  do! 


No.  211.    There  was  a  wife  wound  in  Cockpen. 

Tune :  Scroggam.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  539. 
Slow 


3zz£ 


There    was        a      wife  wonn'd    in     Cock -pen,      Scrog-gam!  She 


e=3 


brewM  gttde  ate        for       gen    -   tie  -men:  Sing      auld    Cowl,          lay      you 


-*— 


down       by 


Scrog  .  gam,  my    dear  -  ie,         ruf  -  mm ! 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


189 


THERE  was  a  wife  wonn'd  in  Cockpen, 

Scroggam ! 

She  brew'd  gude  ale  for  gentlemen  : 
Sing  auld  Cowl,  lay  you  down  by  me— 
Scroggam,  my  dearie,  ruffum  ! 

The  gudewife's  dochter  fell  in  a  fever, 

Scroggam ! 

The  priest  o'  the  parish  fell  in  anither : 
Sing  auld  Cowl,  lay  you  down  by  me — 
Scroggam,  my  dearie,  ruffum  ! 

They  laid  the  twa  i'  the  bed  thegither, 

Scroggam  ! 

That  the  heat  o'  the  tane  might  cool  the  tither 
Sing  auld  Cowl,  lay  you  down  by  me — 
Scroggam,  my  dearie,  ruffum ! 


No.  212.    John  Anderson  my  jo>  John. 

Tune :  John  Anderson  my  jo,  John.       Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  260. 

Slow 


_ 
John     An-  der-son  my     jo,    John,  "When     we  were  first  ac  -  quent, 


Your    locks  were  like  the      rav   -   en,  Your     bon  -  ie  brow  was    brent 


But        now  your  brow  is         beld,  John,  Your     locks  are  like  the     snaw, 


But      bless-ings  on    your    fros  -  ty     pow,  John      An-der-son  my     jo! 


JOHN  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 

When  we  were  first  acquent, 
Your  locks  were  like  the  raven, 

Your  bonie  brow  was  brent ; 
But  now  your  brow  is  beld,  John, 

Your  locks  are  like  the  snaw, 
But  blessings  on  your  frosty  pow, 

John  Anderson  my  jo  I 


John  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 

We  clamb  the  hill  thegither; 
And  mony  a  cantie  day,  John, 

We've  had  wi'  ane  anither  : 
Now  we  maun  totter  down,  John, 

And  hand  in  hand  we'll  go, 
And  sleep  thegither  at  the  foot, 

John  Anderson  my  jo ! 


IQO      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  213.    Willie   Was  tie  dwalt  on  Tweed. 

Tune  :  Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  376. 
Moderate  time 


Wil  -  lie  Was  -  tie      dwalt  on  Tweed,  The     spot  they     ca'd      it 


f  ^<  ^ 


Lin-kutn-dod-die  ;  Wil  -  lie    was       a        wabs-ter  gude  Could  stoun 


clue     wi'        o  •  ny    bod  -  ie :      He    had    a     wife  was  •  dour     and    din, 


O,        Tink  -  let      Maid .  gie      was   her   mit  -  her ;  Sic       a      wife      as 


Wil  -  lie    had,        I          wad  -  na        gie 


but  -  ton     for    her. 


WILLIE  Wastle  dwalt  on  Tweed, 

The  spot  they  ca'd  it  Linkumdoddie ; 
Willie  was  a  wabster  gude 

Could  stoun  a  clue  wi'  ony  bodie : 
He  had  a  wife  was  dour  and  din, 

O,  Tinkler  Maidgie  was  her  mither; 
Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had, 

I  wadna  gie  a  button  for  her. 

She  has  an  e'e — she  has  but  ane, — 

The  cat  has  twa  the  very  colour, 
Five  rusty  teeth,  forbye  a  stump, 

A  clapper  tongue  wad  deave  a  miller ; 
A  whiskin  beard  about  her  mou', 

Her  nose  and  chin  they  threaten  ither; 
Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had, 

I  wadna  gie  a  button  for  her. 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


She's  bow-hough'd,  she's  hem-shinn'd, 

Ae  limpin  leg  a  hand-breed  shorter; 
She's  twisted  right,  she's  twisted  left, 

To  balance  fair  in  ilka  quarter  : 
She  has  a  hump  upon  her  breast, 

The  twin  o'  that  upon  her  shouther  : 
Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had, 

I  wadna  gie  a  button  for  her. 

Auld  baudrans  by  the  ingle  sits, 

An*  wi'  her  loof  her  face  a-washin  ; 
But  Willie's  wife  is  nae  sae  trig, 

She  dights  her  grunzie  wi'  a  hushion  ; 
Her  walie  nieves  like  midden-creels, 

Her  face  wad  fyle  the  Logan  Water : 
Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had, 

I  wadna  gie  a  button  for  her. 


No.  214.    There's  sax  eggs  in  the  pan,  gudeman. 

Tune  :  O,  an  ye  were  dead guidman  (see  infra). 

CHORUS.     O,  an  ye  were  dead,  gudeman  ! 

A  green  turf  on  your  head,  gudeman  / 
/  wad  bestow  my  zvidowhood 
Upon  a  rantin  Highlandman ! 

THERE'S  sax  eggs  in  the  pan,  gudeman, 
There 's  sax  eggs  in  the  pan,  gudeman  j 
There's  ane  to  you,  and  twa  to  me, 
And  three  to  our  John  Highlandman  J 

A  sheep's  head  in  the  pot,  gudeman, 

A  sheep's  head  in  the  pot,  gudeman, 

The  flesh  to  him,  the  broo  to  me, 

An'  the  horns'  become  your  brow,  gudeman  I 

Sing,  round  about  the  fire  wi'  a  rung  she  ran, 
An'  round  about  the  fire  wi'  a  rung  she  ran : — 
'Your  horns  shall  tie  you  to  the  staw, 
An1  I  shall  bang  your  hide,  gudeman  J  * 


192 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  215.   /  bought  my  wife  a  stane  o   lint. 

Tune:  The  weary  pund o'  tow.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  350. 

Slow 


CHORUS.  The  wea  -  ry  pund ^  the     wea-ry pund \  The    wea-ry     pund    o1       tow! 

Fine. 


ZCZ 


/   think  my  wife  will     end   her  life     Be  -fore  she      spin  her  .tow. 


T"f~  ~*-'~- *: 

I  bought  my  wife       a    stane  o'   lint      As   gude  as  e'er    did    grow,    And 

D.  C. 


a'     that  she      has    made   o'      that,    Is       ae  poor     pund     o'       tow. 


CHORUS.     The  weary  pund,  the  weary  pund, 

The  weary  pund  o'  tow  / 
/  think  my  wife  will  end  her  life 
Before  she  spin  her  tow. 

I  BOUGHT  my  wife  a  stane  o'  lint 

As  gude  as  e'er  did  grow, 
And  a'  that  she  has  made  o'  that 

Is  ae  poor  pund  o'  tow. 

There  sat  a  bottle  in  a  bole 

Beyont  the  ingle  low ; 
And  ay  she  took  the  tither  souk 

To  drouk  the  stourie  tow. 

Quoth  I  :   '  For  shame,  ye  dirty  dame, 

Gae  spin  your  tap  o'  tow ! ' 
She  took  the  rock,  and  wi'  a  knock 

She  brak  it  o'er  my  pow. 

At  last  her  feet — I  sang  to  see't ! — 
Gaed  foremost  o'er  the  knowe, 

And  or  I  wad  anither  jad, 
I'll  wallop  in  a  tow. 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


No.  216.    The  bairns  gat  out  wi    an  unco  shout. 

Tune  :  The  deuks  dang  o'er  my  daddie.       Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1792,  No.  396. 
Merrily. 


The   bairns  gat    out   wi'    an        un  -  co  shout: — ' The  deuks  dang  o'er  my 


—^~       ~^~  ~^~ 

dad  -  die,    O  ! '  *  The    fien  -  ma-care,1  quo1  the      fei  -  rie  auld  wife,    '  He    was  but 


a      paid    lin      bo  -  dy,     O !     '  He     paid  -  les    out,  and    he     paid  -  les     in, 


An'    he      paid  -  les     late     and     ear  -   ly,    O !    This    se  -  ven  lang  years  I    hae 


-Jf-     ==  J=C=Z= 


^ 


lien    by    his    side,    An'    he      is     but     a     fus  -  ion  -  less       car  -  lie,      O ! 


THE  bairns  gat  out  wi'  an  unco  shout : — 

'  The  deuks  dang  o'er  my  daddie,  O  ! ' 
'The  fien- ma-care,'  quo'  the  feirie  auld  wife, 

*  He  was  but  a  paidlin  body,  O  ! 
He  paidles  out,  and  he  paidles  in, 

An'  he  paidles  late  and  early,  O  ! 
This  seven  lang  years  I  hae  lien  by  his  side, 

An'  he  is  but  a  fusionless  carlie,  O  ! ' 

'O,  haud  your  tongue,  my  feirie  auld  wife, 

O,  haud  your  tongue,  now  Nansie,  O  ! 
I've  seen  the  day,  and  sae  hae  ye, 

Ye  wadna  been  sae  donsie,  O  ! 
I've  seen  the  day  ye  butter' d  my  brose, 

And  cuddl'd  me  late  and  early,  O  ; 
But  downa-do's  come  o'er  me  now, 

And,  och,  I  find  it  sairly,  O  ! ' 


i94 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  217.   Husband,  husband,  cease  your  strife. 

Tune  :  My  jo,  Janet.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  36. 
Slow  and  pointed. 


'Hus- band,  bus -band,  cease  your  strife,  Nor    long  .  er      id  -  ly      rave,      sir! 

/TN 


Tho'      I        am    your  wed  -  ded  wife,    Yet          I      am     not    your  slave,    sir ! 


^1 


'One        of       two      must       still        o    -    bey,  Nan    -    cy,      Nan    -   cy 


man      or       wo  -  man,    say, 


My     spouse     Nan    •    cy?1 


*  HUSBAND,     husband,    cease    your 
strife, 

Nor  longer  idly  rave,  sir ! 
Tho'  I  am  your  wedded  wife, 

Yet  I  am  not»your  slave,  sir  1 ' 
'  One  of  two  must  still  obey, 

Nancy,  Nancy  ; 
Is  it  man  or  woman,  say, 

My  spouse  Nancy  ? ' 

'  If  'tis  still  the  lordly  word, 

Service  and  obedience, 
I'll  desert  my  sov'reign  lord, 

And  so  good-bye,  allegiance  ! ' 
'Sad  will  I  be  so  bereft, 

Nancy,  Nancy ; 
Yet  I'll  try  to  make  a  shift, 

My  spouse  Nancy.' 


'  My 


poor    heart,     then    break    it 
must, 

My  last  hour  I  am  near  it  : 
When  you  lay  me  in  the  dust, 
Think,  how  you  will  bear  it.* 
'  I  will  hope  and  trust  in  Heaven, 

Nancy,  Nancy; 

Strength  to  bear  it  will  be  given, 
My  spouse  Nancy.' 

'Well,  sir,  from  the  silent  dead, 

Still  I'll  try  to  daunt  you  : 
Ever  round  your  midnight  bed 

Horrid  sprites  shall  haunt  you  !  ' 
'  I'll  wed  another  like  my  dear 

Nancy,  Nancy  ; 
Then  all  hell  will  fly  for  fear, 

My  spouse  Nancy.' 


No.  2 1 8.    /  never  saw  a  fairer. 

Tune  :  My  wife's  a  wanton  wee  thing  (see  No.  220). 

CHORUS.     She  is  a  winsome  wee  thing, 
She  is  a  handsome  wee  thing, 
She  is  a  lonesome  wee  thing, 
This  sweet  wee  wife  o'  mine' 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


J95 


I  NEVER  saw  a  fairer, 
I  never  lo'ed  a  dearer, 
And  neist  my  heart  I'll  wear  her, 
For  fear  my  jewel  tine. 

The  warld's  wrack,  we  share  o't, 
The  warstle  and  the  care  o't, 
Wi'  her  I'll  blythely  bear  it, 
And  think  my  lot  divine. 


No.  219.    O,  that  I  had  neer  been  married. 

Tune  :  Crowdie.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  593. 

Slowly 


O,   that    I        had  ne'er  been  mar-ried,    I     wad      ne  -  ver  had   nae  care ! 


Now    I've    got  -  ten  wife  an'  weans,  An'  they    cry  'crow  -  die'  ev  -  er  -  mair. 


CHORUS. — Ance  crow-die,     twice  crow-die,  Three  limes  crow-die  in     a    day;     Gin 


ye  '  crow-die '     on   -  ie    mair,  Ye' II  crow -die     a1    my  meal     a -way. 

[O,  THAT  I  had  ne'er  been  married, 

I  wad  never  had  nae  care ; 
Now  I've  gotten  wife  an'  weans, 

An'  they  cry  '  crowdie '  evermair. 

CHORUS.     Ance  crowdie,  twice  crowdie, 

Three  times  crowdie  in  a  day; 
Gin  ye  '  crowdie '  onie  mair, 

Yill  crowdie  a'  my  meal  awayJ} 

Waefu'  want  and  hunger  fley  me, 

Glow'rin  by  the  hallan  en' : 
Sair  I  fecht  them  at  the  door, 

But  ay  I'm  eerie  they  come  ben. 
oa 


i96 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  2  20.    She  playd  the  loon  or  she  was  married. 

Tune  :  My  wife's  a  zvanton  wee  thing.         Stewart's  Reels,  1762,  p.  30. 


CHORUS.    My    wife's  a        wan        -     '  ton-     wee  thing,  My   wife's     a       wan    • 


•ton     wee  thing,    My    wife's     a        wan 
Fine. 


Ion      wee  thing^  She  win 
tr 


na    be   guid-ed   by       me.  She    play' d  the  loon  or    she    was    mar   - 

tr 


ried,    She    play'd  the  loon    or      she    was      mar  -  ried,  She    play'd  the    loon 

D.C. 


or     she    was      mar  -  ried,  She'll  do       it       a  -  gain     or      she        die. 


CHORUS.     [My  wtfe's  a  wanton  wee  thing, 
My  wife's  a  wanton  wee  thing. 
My  wife's  a  wanton  wee  thing, 
She  winna  be  guided  by  me. 

She  play'd  the  loon  or  she  was  married, 
She  play'd  the  loon  or  she  was  married, 
She  play'd  the  loon  or  she  was  married, 
She'll  do  it  again  or  she  die.] 

She  sell'd  her  coat  and  she  drank  it, 
She  sell'd  her  coat  and  she  drank  it, 
She  row'd  hersell  in  a  blanket, — 
She  winna  be  guided  by  me. 

She  mind't  na  when  I  forbade  her, 
She  mind't  na  when  I  forbade  her, 
I  took  a  rung  and  I  claw'd  her, 

And  a  braw  gude  bairn  was  she. 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


I97 


No.  221.    On  peace  an'  rest  my  mind  was  bent. 

Tune  :  My  wife  she  dang  me.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  532. 


CHORUS.      0,  ay     my    wife       she       dang     me^      An*       aft     my    wife 


she       banffd     me!      If    ye         gie          a.  wo    -    man  a' 

Fine. 


her       will,      Gude     faith!    she'll       soon         (Per    •    gang       ye. 


On  peace        an'        rest       my         mind    was     bent,   And,       fool 


*J  ^^ 


I      was !       I          mar  •  ri   -    ed ;  But      nev  -   er     hon    -    est          man's 

D.  C. 


in     -    tent        Sae         curs     -     ed       •       ly  mis    -      car    -    ried. 


CHORUS.     O,  ay  my  ivlfe  she  dang  me, 

An*  aft  my  wife  she  bang'd  me! 
If  ye  gie  a  woman  a1  her  will, 

Gude  faith  I  she'll  soon  o'ergang  ye. 

ON  peace  an'  rest  my  mind  was  bent, 

And,  fool  I  was  !    I  married  ; 
But  never  honest  man's  intent 

Sae  cursedly  miscarried. 

Some  sairie  comfort  at  the  last, 
When  a'  thir  days  are  done,  man  ; 

My  'pains  o'  hell1  on  earth  is  past, 
I'm  sure  o'  bliss  aboon,  man. 


198 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  222.   /  coft  a  stane  d  haslock  woo. 

Tune  :   The  cardin  o't.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  437. 


£&E£^ 


I          coft    a  stane  o'      has  -  lock        woo,        To       mak      a      wab 


to  John    -    ie        o't;     For       John   -    ie  is  my  on 


ly       jo—          I        lo'e       him      best         of         on    -   ie      yet!          TJie 


card   -    in        «?'/,      M£         spin    •   nin       0V, 


warp  -  in 


«w»  -  nin     o't;      When          il     •     ka         ell        cost 


me         a       groatt     The       tai  •   lor    stow      the          lyn   •   in       o't. 


I  COFT  a  stane  o'  haslock  woo, 

To  mak  a  wab  to  Johnie  o't ; 
For  Johnie  is  my  only  jo — 

I  lo'e  him  best  of  onie  yet ! 

CHORUS.     The  cardin  oV,  the  spinnin  'o't, 

The  warpin  eft,  the  urinnin  o't; 
When  ilka  ell  cost  me  a  groat. 
The  tailor  staw  the  lynin  o't. 

For  tho'  his  locks  be  lyart  gray, 
And  tho1  his  brow  be  beld  aboon, 

Yet  I  hae  seen  him  on  a  day 
The  pride  of  a'  the  parishen. 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


I99 


No.  223.    The  cooper  d  Cuddie  came  here  aw  a. 

Tune:  Bab  at  the  bowster.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  431. 


CHORUS.  We  V/  hide    the  coop  -  er  be  •  hint  the  door,  Be  •  hint    the    doort 


I 


hint     the     door,  We'll    hide    the    coop-er     be    •    hint    the    door,    And 

Fine. 

-0- 


mawn,  O!          The   coop-er      o'      Cud-die  came 


here      a  -  wa,  He     ca'd     the  girrs    out    owre  us    a',   An'      our        gude 

D.C. 


££ 


wife    has     got- ten     a     ca',  That's    an-ger'd  the  sil  -  ly  gude-man,      O. 


CHORUS.     Will  hide  the  cooper  behint  the  door, 
Behint  the  door,  behint  the  door. 
We'll  hide  the  cooper  behint  the  door, 
And  cover  him  under  a  mawn,   O. 

THE  cooper  o'  Cuddie  came  here  awa, 
He  ca'd  the  girrs  out  owre  us  a', 
An'  our  gudevvife  has  gotten  a  ca', 
That's  anger'd  the  silly  gudeman,  O. 

He  sought  them  out,  he  sought  them  in, 
Wi',   <  Deil  hae  her ! '   and,   '  Deil  hae  him  ! ' 
But  the  body  he  was  sae  doited  and  blin', 
He  wistna  where  he  was  gaun,  O. 

They  cooper'd  at  e'en,  they  cooper'd  at  morn, 
Till  our  gudeman  has  gotten  the  scorn  ; 
On  ilka  brow  she's  planted  a  horn, 

And  swears  that  there  they  sail  stan',  O  ! 


200 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  224.    Guide  en  to  you,  kimmer. 

Tune  :   We're  a1  noddin.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  523. 


'Guid-e'en     to    you,   kim-mer,        And     how       do   you  do?'  '  Hic-cup,' 

CHORUS. 


quo'    kim-mer,     'The     bet  -  ter  that  I'm  fou.'         We're   a?    nod  •  din, 


m'd,    nid,    nod  -  din,     We're    a1    nod  -  din    at       our     house    at   hame  / 


'  GUIDE'EN  to  you,  kimmer, 

And  how  do  you  do?' 
'Hiccup,'  quo'  kimmer, 

'The  better  that  I'm  fou'.' 

CHORUS.      Wire  a1  noddin,  nid,  nid,  noddin, 

We're  a'  noddin  at  our  house  at  hame  I 

[Kate  sits  i'  the  neuk, 

Suppin  hen  broo ; 
Deil  tak  Kate, 

An  she  be  na  noddin  too  !] 

'How's  a'  wi'  you,  kimmer, 

And  how  do  ye  fare?' 
'A  pint  o'  the  best  o't, 

And  twa  pints  mair.' 

'  How 's  a'  wi'  you,  kimmer, 

And  how  do  ye  thrive? 
How  mony  bairns  hae  ye  ?  * 

Quo'  kimmer,   '  I  hae  five.' 

'Are  they  a'  Johnie's?' 

'  Eh  !   atweel,  na  : 
Twa  o'  them  were  gotten 

When  Johnny  was  awa  ! ' 

[Cats  like  milk, 

And  dogs  like  broo ; 
Lads  like  lasses  weel, 

And  lasses  lads  too.] 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


2O I 


No.  225.    There's  cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen. 

Tune:  Cauld  kail.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  162. 
Lively 


There's  cauld  kail    in      A-ber-deen,  And  cas-tocks     in    Strath  -  bo  -  gie, 


When  il  -  ka    lad  maun  hae  his  lass,  Then  fye,  gie     me      my    Cog-gie. 


CHORUS.  My  Cog-gie^  Sirs^My  Cog-gie^  Sirs,  I   can-not  want  my    Cog  -  gie:    I 


•wad  •  na  gie  my   three-girr*  d  cap    For          e'er     a  quean  on     Bog  -  if. 


THERE'S  cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen, 

And  castocks  in  Strathbogie, 
When  ilka  lad  maun  hae  his  lass, 

Then  fye,  gie  me  my  coggie. 

CHORUS.     My  coggie,  Sirs,  my  coggie,  Sirs, 

I  cannot  want  my  coggie: 

I  wadna  gie  my  three-girr 'd  cap, 

For  ier  a  quean  on  Bogie. 

There 's  Johnie  Smith  has  got  a  wife 
That  scrimps  him  o'  his  coggie, 

If  she  were  mine,  upon  my  life 
I  wad  douk  her  in  a  bogie. 


202 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


V.    BACCHANALIAN   AND   SOCIAL 


No.  226.    The  deil  cam  fiddlin  thro'  the  town, 

Tune:   The  Hemp-dresser.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  399. 
Merrily 


~~f~\~ 

-fi  —  fv 

—  1  —  P~~F~f~F~ 

'-£  —  f^- 

^ 

M 

^  —  I  —  : 

SEz 

EEE 

^—  k=t?=F 

*  • 

^ 

-K^ 

—  J— 

The      deil    cam    fidd  -  lin     thro1     the       town,   And  danc'd     a    -  wa 


wi'    the  Excise-man,  And     il    -    ka     wife     cries :  'Auld  Ma  -  houn,       I 

CHORUS. 


wish  you  luck    o1     the    prize,  man!       The     deil's     a    •    wa,     the      deil's 


wa,     The    deil's    a  -  wa     wf    the    Exciseman!  He's      danc'd     a 


he's       danc'd    a  -  wa,  He's  danc'd  a  -  wa    wi'  the    Excise-man! 

THE  deil  cam  fiddlin  thro'  the  town, 

And  danc'd  awa  wi'  the  Exciseman, 
And  ilka  wife  cries  : — '  Auld  Mahoun, 

I  wish  you  luck  o'  the  prize,  man ! ' 

CHORUS.      The  deil's  awa,  the  deil's  awa, 

The  deil's  awa  wi'  the  Exciseman! 
He's  danc'd  awa,  he's  danc'd  awa, 
He's  danc'd  awa  wi'  the  Exciseman  I 

'We'll  mak  our  maut,  and  we'll  brew  our  drink, 

We'll  laugh,  sing,  and  rejoice,  man, 
And  monie  braw  thanks  to  the  meikle  black  deil, 

That  danc'd  awa  wi'  the  Exciseman. 

'There's  threesome  reels,  there's  foursome  reels, 
There 's  hornpipes  and  strathspeys,  man, 

But  the  ae  best  dance  e'er  cam  to  the  land, 
Was   The  deil's  awa  wi'  the  Exciseman!' 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


203 


No.  227.   Landlady,  count  the  lawin. 

Tune:  Hey  tutti,  taiti.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  170. 
Lively 


Land-la-dy,  count  the  law-in,  The  day  is  near  the    daw  -  in  ;  Ye're    a' 

CHORUS. 


^'     !> 


blind  drank,  boys,  And  I'm  but    jol  -  ly  fou.     Hey    tut  •  //,       tai  -  tt\ 

tr 


How  tut  -  tt\      tat    •    //,      Hey    tut  •  fi,    tai  -  ti,        Who,  'j  fou    now  ? 


LANDLADY,  count  the  lawin, 
The  day  is  near  the  dawin; 
Ye're  a'  blind  drunk,  boys, 
And  I'm  but  jolly  fou. 

CHORUS.     Hey  tutti,  taiti ', 
How  tutti,  taiti, 
Hey  tutti,  taiti, 
Wha's  fou  now? 


Cog,  and  ye  were  ay  fou, 
Cog,  and  ye  were  ay  fou, 
I  wad  sit  and  sing  to  you, 
If  ye  were  ay  fou  ! 

Weel  may  we  a'  be ! 
Ill  may  we  never  see ! 
God  bless  the  king 
And  the  companie ! 


No.  228.   A'  the  lads  o    Thornie-bank. 

Tune :  Ruffian's  rant  (see  No.  239). 

A*  THE  lads  o'  Thornie-bank, 

When  they  gae  to  the  shore  o'  Bucky, 

They'll  step  in  an*  tak  a  pint 
Wi'  Lady  Onlie,  honest  lucky. 

CHORUS.     Lady  Onlie,  honest  lucky, 

Brews  guid  ale  at  shore  o'  Bucky ; 
I  wish  her  sale  for  her  guid  ale, 
The  best  on  a'  the  shore  o'  Bucky. 

Her  house  sae  bien,  her  curch  sae  clean — 

I  wat  she  is  a  dainty  chuckie, 
And  cheery  blinks  the  ingle-gleede 

O'  Lady  Onlie,  honest  lucky! 


204 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  229.    /  sing  of  a  whistle. 

Tune:  The  Whistle.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  314. 


I     sing  of    a  whis-tle,     a      whis-tle   of  worth,  I     sing     of  a  whis-tle, 


the    pride    of  the  North,    Was  brought  to  the  court  of  our  good  Scot  -  ish 

CHORUS. 


king,  And    long  with     this    whis-tle       all     Scot-land  shall  ring.    Fal    de 


ral    lal    lal    layt    And  long' with  this  -whistle    all     Scotland  shall  ring. 


I  SING  of  a  whistle,  a  whistle  of  worth, 

I  sing  of  a  whistle,  the  pride  of  the  North, 

Was  brought  to  the  court  of  our  good  Scotish  king, 

And  long  with  this  whistle  all  Scotland  shall  ring. 

CHORUS.     Fal  de  ral  lal  lal  lay 

And  long  with  this  whistle  all  Scotland  shall  ring. 

Old  Loda,  still  rueing  the  arm  of  Fingal, 
The  god  of  the  bottle  sends  down  from  his  hall — 
'This  whistle's  your  challenge,  to  Scotland  get  o'er, 
And  drink  them  to  hell,  sir,  or  ne'er  see  me  more  ! ' 

Old  poets  have  sung,  and  old.  chronicles  tell, 
What  champions  ventur'd,  what  champions  fell; 
The  son  of  great  Loda  was  conqueror  still, 
And  blew  on  the  whistle  their  requiem  shrill. 

Till  Robert,  the  lord  of  the  Cairn  and  the  Scaur, 
Unmatched  at  the  bottle,  unconquer'd  in  war, 
He  drank  his  poor  god-ship  as  deep  as  the  sea  : 
No  tide  of  the  Baltic  e'er  drunker  than  he. 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


20= 


I 


Thus  Robert,  victorious,  the  trophy  has  gain'd  ; 
Which  now  in  his  house  has  for  ages  remain'd  ; 
Till  three  noble  chieftains,  and  all  of  his  blood, 
The  jovial  contest  again  have  renew'd. 

Three  joyous  good  fellows,  with  hearts  clear  of  flaw  ; 
Craigdarroch,  so  famous  for  wit,  worth,  and  law ; 
And  trusty  Glenriddel,  so  skill'd  in  old  coins  ; 
And  gallant  Sir  Robert,  deep-read  in  old  wines. 

Craigdarroch  began,  with  a  tongue  smooth  as  oil, 
Desiring  Glenriddel  to  yield  up  the  spoil ; 
Or  else  he  would  muster  the  heads  of  the  clan, 
And  once  more,  in  claret,  try  which  was  the  man. 

1  By  the  gods  of  the  ancients ! '   Glenriddel  replies, 
'Before  I  surrender  so  glorious  a  prize, 
I'll  conjure  the  ghost  of  the  great  Rorie  More, 
And  bumper  his  horn  with  him  twenty  times  o'er.1 

Sir  Robert,  a  soldier,  no  speech  would  pretend, 
But  he  ne'er  turn'd  his  back  on  his  foe,  or  his  friend  ; 
Said,   'Toss  down  the  whistle,  the  prize  of  the  field,' 
And,  knee-deep  in  claret,  he'd  die  ere  he'd  yield. 

To  the  board  of  Glenriddel  our  heroes  repair, 

So  noted  for  drowning  of  sorrow  and  care  ; 

But  for  wine  and  for  welcome  not  more  known  to  fame, 

Than  the  sense,  wit,  and  taste  of  a  sweet  lovely  dame. 

A  Bard  was  selected  to  witness  the  fray, 
And  tell  future  ages  the  feats  of  the  day ; 
A  Bard  who  detested  all  sadness  and  spleen, 
And  wish'd  that  Parnassus  a  vineyard  had  been. 

The  dinner  being  over,  the  claret  they  ply, 

And  ev'ry  new  cork  is  a  new  spring  of  joy ; 

In  the  bands  of  old  friendship  and  kindred  so  set, 

And  the  bands  grew  the  tighter  the  more  they  were  wet. 

Gay  Pleasure  ran  riot  as  bumpers  ran  o'er ; 
Bright  Phoebus  ne'er  witness'd  so  joyous  a  core, 
And  vow'd  that  to  leave  them  he  was  quite  forlorn, 
Till  Cynthia  hinted  he'd  see  them  next  morn. 

Six  bottles  apiece  had  well  wore  out  the  night, 
When  gallant  Sir  Robert,  to  finish^  the  fight, 
Turn'd  o'er  in  one  bumper  a  bottle  of  red, 
And  swore  'twas  the  way  that  their  ancestor  did. 


206      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

Then  worthy  Glenriddel,  so  cautious  and  sage, 
No  longer  the  warfare  ungodly  would  wage ; 
A  high  ruling-elder  to  wallow  in  wine ! 
He  left  the  foul  business  to  folks  less  divine. 

The  gallant  Sir  Robert  fought  hard  to  the  end; 
But  who  can  with  Fate  and  quart-bumpers  contend? 
Though  Fate  said,   l  A  hero  should  perish  in  light : ' 
So  up  rose  bright  Phoebus— and  down  fell  the  knight. 

Next  up  rose  our  Bard,  like  a  prophet  in  drink : — 
1  Craigdarroch,  thou'll  soar  when  creation  shall  sink  ; 
But  if  thou  would  flourish  immortal  in  rhyme, 
Come — one  bottle  more — and  have  at  the  sublime  I 

'Thy  line,  that  have  struggled  for  Freedom  with  Bruce, 

Shall  heroes  and  patriots  ever  produce : 

So  thine  be  the  laurel,  and  mine  be  the  bay; 

The  field  thou  hast  won,  by  yon  bright  god  of  day ! ' 


No.  230.    Ye  sons  of  old  Killie. 

Tune  :  Over  the  water  to  Charlie  (see  infra). 

YE  sons  of  old  Killie,  assembled  by  Willie 

To  follow  the  noble  vocation, 
Your  thrifty  old  mother  has  scarce  such  another 

To  sit  in  that  honored  station. 
I've  little  to  say,  but  only  to  pray, — 

As  praying's  the  ton  of  your  fashion — 
A  prayer  from  the  Muse  you  well  may  excuse — 

'Tis  seldom  her  favourite  passion  : — 

'Ye  powers  who  preside  o'er  the  wind  and  the  tide, 

Who  marked  each  element's  border, 
Who  formed  this  frame  with  beneficent  aim, 

Whose  sovereign  statute  is  order : — 
Within  this  dear  mansion  may  wayward  Contention 

Or  withered  Envy  ne'er  enter  ; 
May  secrecy  round  be  the  mystical  bound 

And  brotherly  Love  be  the  centre ! ' 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


207 


No.  231.   It's  now  the  day  is  dawin. 

Tune :  Three  gude  fellows  ayont  the  glen.     Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1796,  No.  442. 
Lively 


fcfcdt 


CHORUS.  There '  J  three     true   gude  fellows,  There's  three    true   gude  f el-lows, 

Fine. 


There's  three       true   gude  fel  -  lows,    Down     a    -   yont  yon   glent 


It's    now    the    day      is      daw   -    in,      But         or  night  do     fa'          in, 

D.C. 


Whase  cock's  best        at      craw  -  in,  Wil  -   lie,      thou    sail      ken ! 


CHORUS.      There 's  three  true  gude  fellows, 
There's  three  true  gude  fellows, 
There 's  three  true  gude  fellows, 
Down  ayont  yon  glen ! 

IT'S  now  the  day  is  dawin, 

But  or  night  do  fa'  in, 
Whase  cock  's  best  at  crawin, 

Willie,  thou  sail  ken! 


No.  232.    Deluded  swain,  the  pleasure. 

Tune  :  The  Collier's  bonie  lassie  (see  No.  44). 


DELUDED  swain,  the  pleasure 
The  fickle  fair  can  give  thee 

Is  but  a  fairy  treasure — 

Thy  hopes  will  soon  deceive  thee 

The  billows  on  the  ocean, 
The  breezes  idly  roaming, 

The  clouds'  uncertain  motion — 
They  are  but  types  of  woman. 


Oh !   art  thou  not  ashamed 
To  doat  upon  a  feature  ? 

If  man  thou  wouldst  be  named, 
Despise  the  silly  creature! 

Go,  find  an  honest  fellow  ; 

Good  claret  set  before  thee. 
Hold  on  till  thou  art  mellow, 

And  then  to  bed  in  glory ! 


208 


•  TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  233.    Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot? 

(Now  first  printed  from  a  holograph  of  Burns  in  the  Interleaved  Museum, 
who  states: — 'The  original  and  by  much  the  best  set  of  the  words  of 
this  song  is  as  follows.') 

(Auld  Lang  Syne.) 

Tune:  Auld  lang  syne.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  413. 
Moderate  time. 


Should    auld     ac-quaint-ance  be 


mind  ?  Should     auld    ac-quaint-ance     be     for-got,  And  days  o1  lang    syne  ? 
CHORUS.  ^- 


And  for  auld     lang     syne,    my  jo,      For       auld       lang     syne,     We'll 

tak        a       cup      o1     kind -ness   yet,    For       auld       lang       syne. 

SHOULD  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  brought  to  mind? 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  days  o'  lang  syne  ? 
CHORUS.    And  for  auld  lang  syne,  my  jo, 

For  auld  lang  syne, 
We'll  tak  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet, 
For  auld  lang  syne. 

And  surely  ye'll  be  your  pint-stowp ! 

And  surely  I'll  be  mine  ! 
And  we'll  tak  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet, 

For  auld  lang  syne. 

We  twa  hae  run  about  the  braes, 

And  pou'd  the  gowans  fine  ; 
But  we've  wander'd  mony  a  weary  foot 

Sin  auld  lang  syne. 

We  twa  hae  paidl'd  i'  the  burn, 

Frae  mornin  sun  till  dine  ; 
But  seas  between  us  braid  hae  roar'd 

Sin  auld  lang  syne. 

And  there 's  a  hand  my  trusty  fiere  ! 

And  gie  's  a  hand  o'  thine  ! 
And  we'll  tak  a  right  gude-willy  waught, 

For  auld  lang  syne. 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


209 


No.  234.    Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot. 

(THOMSON'S  COPY.) 

Tune:  Auld  lang syne.         Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  No.  68. 
Cheerily 


Should  auld  ac-quaint-ance    l>e       for-got.       And    nev  -  er  brought  to    mind? 


Should  auld     ac-quaint-ance     be       for-got,       And    days     o'      lang     syne? 
CHORUS. 


For       auld       lang       syne,   my  dear,      For       auld       lang         syne, 


tak        a     cup       d1    kind-ness  yet,        For       auld       lang 

SHOULD  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  never  brought  to  mind? 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 

And  days  o'  lang  syne  ? 

CHORUS.     For  auld  lang  syne,  my  dear, 

For  auld  lang  syne, 
We'll  tak  a  cup  o1  kindness  yet, 
For  auld  lang  syne. 

We  twa  ha'e  run  about  the  braes, 

And  pu'd  the  gowans  fine  ; 
But  weVe  wander'.d  mony  a  weary  foot, 

Sin'  auld  lang  syne. 

We  twa  ha'e  paidlet  i'  the  burn, 

Frae  morning  sun  'till  dine  : 
But  seas  between  us  braid  ha'e  roar'd 

Sin'  auld  lang  syne. 

And  there's  a  hand,  my  trusty  feire, 

And  gie  's  a  hand  o'  thine  ; 
And  we'll  tak  a  right  gude-willie  waught, 

For  auld  lang  syne. 

And  surely  ye'll  be  your  pint-stoup, 

And  surely  I'll  be  mine  ; 
And  we'll  tak  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet, 

For  auld  lang  syne. 
p 


syne. 


210 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  235.    O,    Willie  brewd  a  peck  o   maut. 

Tune :  Willie  brew'd  a  peck  o'  maut.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  291. 
Blythely 


O,         Wil  •   lie       brew'd        a        peck     o'    maut,    And      Rob  and 


Al     -     Ian         cam         to        see;     Three        bly  -  ther      hearts      that 


m 


lee    -    lang        night      Ye  wad    -    na  found  in  Chris 

CHORUS. 


-     ten    -    die.  We         are         na        fou,        we're         nae         that 


e'e:      The  cock  may          craw,    the 


daw,       And        ay       we'll         taste 


bar   -    ley       bree. 


O,  WILLIE  brew'd  a  peck  o'  maut, 

And  Rob  and  Allan  cam  to  see  ; 
Three  blyther  hearts  that  lee-lang  night 

Ye  wadna  found  in  Christendie. 

CHORUS.     We  are  na  fou,  we're  nae  that  fou, 

But  just  a  drappie  in  our  e'e; 
The  cock  may  craw,  the  day  may  daw, 
And  ay  we'll  taste  the  barley  bree. 

Here  are  we  met  three  merry  boys, 
Three  merry  boys  I  trow  are  we  ; 

And  monie  a  night  we've  merry  been, 
And  monie  mae  we  hope  to  be ! 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL  21 1 

It  is  the  moon,  I  ken  her  horn, 

That 's  blinkin  in  the  lift  sae  hie  : 
She  shines  sae  bright  to  wyle  us  hame, 

But,  by  my  sooth,  she'll  wait  a  wee! 

Wha  first  shall  rise  to  gang  awa, 

A  cuckold,  coward  loun  is  he ! 
Wha  first  beside  his  chair  shall  fa', 

He  is  the  king  amang  us  three ! 


No.  236.    No  churchman  am  I  for  to  rail 
and  to  write. 

Tune  :  Come  let  us  prepare  (see  infra). 

No  churchman  am  I  for  to  rail  and  to  write, 
No  statesman  nor  soldier  to  plot  or  to  fight, 
No  sly  man  of  business  contriving  a  snare, 
For  a  big-belly'd  bottle 's  the  whole  of  my  care. 

The  peer  I  don't  envy,  I  give  him  his  bow; 

I  scorn  not  the  peasant,  tho'  ever  so  low; 

But  a  club  of  good  fellows,  like  those  that  are  here, 

And  a  bottle  like  this,  are  my  glory  and  care. 

Here  passes  the  squire  on  his  brother — his  horse, 
There  centum  per  centum,  the  cit  with  his  purse, 
But  see  you   The  Crown,  how  it  waves  in  the  air? 
There  a  big-belly'd  bottle  still  eases  my  care. 

The  wife  of  my  bosom,  alas !    she  did  die ; 
For  sweet  consolation  to  church  I  did  fly ; 
I  found  that  old  Solomon  proved  it  fair,. 
That  a  big-belly'd  bottle's  a  cure  for  all  care. 

I  once  was  persuaded  a  venture  to  make ; 
A  letter  inform'd  me  that  all  was  to  wreck ; 
But  the  pursy  old  landlord  just  waddled  upstairs 
With  a  glorious  bottle  that  ended  my  cares. 

'  Life's  cares  they  are  comforts ' — a  maxim  laid  down 

By  the  bard,  what  d'ye  call  him  ?   that  wore  the  black  gown 

And  faith  I  agree  with  th'  old  prig  to  a  hair ; 

For  a  big-belly'd  bottle 's  a  heav'n  of  a  care. 

A  STANZA  ADDED  IN  A  MASON  LODGE. 

Then  fill  up  a  bumper  and  make  it  o'erflow, 
And  honours  masonic  prepare  for  to  throw ; 
May  every  true  brother  of  the  compass  and  square 
Have  a  big-belly'd  bottle,  when  harass'd  with  care! 
p  a 


212 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  237.    O,  rattlin,  roarin   Willie. 

Tune:  Rattlin,  roarin  Willie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  194. 
Lively 


si 


¥ 

O,    ratt  -  lin,       roar  •  in     Wil-lie,    O,      he  held      to        the    fair, 


An"      for     to       sell     his  fid  -  die  And    buy    some  oth  -  er  ware ;  But 


part  -   ing       wi'       his    fid  -  die,  The    saut    tear    blin't  his   e'e—  And, 


*^^i 


ratt  -  lin,  roar  •  in     Wil  -  He,  Ye're       wel  -  come  hame    to     me! 


[O,  RATTLIN,  roarin  Willie, 

O,  he  held  to  the  fair, 
An'  for  to  sell  his  fiddle 

And  buy  some  other  ware ; 
But  parting  wi'  his  fiddle, 

The  saut  tear  blin't  his  e'e — 
And,  rattlin,  roarin  Willie, 

Ye're  welcome  hame  to  me ! 

1 0  Willie,  come  sell  your  fiddle, 
O,  sell  your  fiddle  sae  fine ; 

O  Willie  come  sell  your  fiddle 
And  buy  a  pint  o'  wine ! ' 


« If  I  should  sell  my  fiddle, 
The  warl'  would  think  I  was  mad ; 

For  mony  a  rantin  day 

My  fiddle  and  I  hae  had.'] 

As  I  cam  by  Crochallan, 

I  cannily  keekit  ben, 
Rattlin,   roarin  Willie 

Was  sitting  at  yon  boord-en' ; 
Sitting  at  yon  boord-en', 

And  amang  guid  companie ; 
Rattlin,  roarin  Willie, 

Ye're  welcome  hame  to  me. 


No.  238.    Here's  a  bottle  and  an  honest  friend. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

There 's  nane  that 's  blest  of  human  kind 
But  the  cheerful  and  the  gay,  man. 


HERE  's  a  bottle  and  an  honest  friend  ! 

What  wad  you  wish  for  mair,  man ! 
Wha  kens,  before  his  life  may  end, 

What  his  share  may  be  o'  care,  man! 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


213 


Then  catch  the  moments  as  they  fly, 
And  use  them  as  ye  ought,  man ! 

Believe  me,  happiness  is  shy, 
And  comes  not  aye  when  sought,  man  ! 


No.  239.   In  comin  by  the  brig  6  Dye. 

Tune  :  Ruffian's  rant.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  156. 
Sprightly 


In    com-in    by  the  brig  o1  Dye,    At   Dar-let  we      a     blink  did  tar-ry; 


As  day  was  dawin      in  the  sky,  We  drank  a  health  to    bon-ie  Ma-ry. 


CHORUS.  Theniel  Mensies*  bon  -  ie    Ma-ry^     Theniel  Menzies1   bon-ie    Ma-ry, 


Charlie    Grigor     tint  his  plaidie,    Kissin   Theniel"  s  bon  -  ie     Ma  -  ry. 

IN  comin  by  the  brig  o'  Dye, 

At  Darlet  we  a  blink  did  tarry ; 
As  day  was  dawin  in  the  sky, 

We  drank  a  health  to  bonie  Mary. 

CHORUS.     Theniel  Menzies1  bonie  Maty, 

Theniel  Men&ies1  bonie  Mary, 
Charlie  Grigor  tint  his  plaidie, 
Kissin  ThenieVs  bonie  Mary. 

Her  een  sae  bright,  her  brow  sae  white, 
Her  haffet  locks  as  brown  's  a  berry ; 

And  ay  they  dimpl't  wi'  a  smile, 
The  rosy  cheeks  o'  bonie  Mary. 

We  lap  and  dancM  the  lee-lang  day, 
Till  piper  lads  were  wae  and  weary  ; 

But  Charlie  gat  the  spring  to  pay, 
For  kissin  Theniel's  bonie  Mary. 


214 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  240.   Adieu  !   a  heart-warm,  fond  adieu. 

Tune :  Goodnight  and  joy  be  w?  you  a'.       Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1803,  No.  600. 
Lively 


A     -     dieu !      a     heart-warm,  fond      a  -  dieu ;  Dear     bro   -   thers 


of          the          mys  •  tic      tyet      Ye  fa  -  vour  -  ed       en  -  Ugh  -  terid 


few,    Com   -    pa    -    nions        of         my  so  -  cial     joy!      Tho'         I 


MI  j  JTI  n  Tr^-rrnn^ 


P — '  •  ^  * 


to          for    -    eign         lands        must      hie ;        Pur    -    su    •    ing       For 


tune's        slid  -  d'ry      ba1;    With        melt    -    ing      heart       and  brim 


ful        eye,      I'll  mind      you        still,         tho'        •  far 


ADIEU  !    a  heart- warm,  fond  adieu  ; 

Dear  brothers  of  the  mystic  tye, 
Ye  favoured,  enlightened  few, 

Companions  of  my  social  joy ! 

Tho'  I  to  foreign  lands  must  hie, 
Pursuing  Fortune's  slidd'ry  ba' ; 

With  melting  heart  and  brimful  eye, 
I'll  mind  you  still,  tho'  far  awa. 

Oft  have  I  met  your  social  band, 

And  spent  the  chearful,  festive  night ; 

Oft,  honour'd  with  supreme  command, 
Presided  o'er  the  sons  of  light: 
And  by  that  hieroglyphic  bright, 

Which  none  but  craftsmen  ever  saw ! 
Strong  Mem'ry  on  my  heart  shall  write 

Those  happy  scenes,  when  far  awa  ! 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


215 


May  Freedom,  Harmony,  and  Love, 
Unite  you  in  the  grand  design, 

Beneath  th'  Omniscient  eye  above— 
The  glorious  ARCHITECT  Divine — 
That  you  may  keep  th'  unerring  line, 

Still  rising  by  the  plummet's  law, 
Till  Order  bright,  completely  shine, 

Shall  be  my  pray'r  when  far  awa. 

And  you,  farewell !    whose  merits  claim 

Justly  that  highest  badge  to  wear  : 
Heav'n  bless  your  honour'd,  noble  name, 

To  MASONRY  and  SCOTIA  dear  ! 

A  last  request  permit  me  here, — 
When  yearly  ye  assemble  a', 

One  round,  I  ask  it  with  a  tear, 
To  him,  the  Bard  that's  far  awa. 


No.  241.    Up  wi    the  carls  o   Dysart. 

Tune :  Hey  ca'  thro'.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  392. 


With  spirit 


Up  wi'  the  carls   o'  Dy  -  sart  And  the  lads  o'  Buckhaven,  And  the  kimmers 

CHORUS. 


o'  Lar-go  And  the  las-ses  o1  Leven.  ffey,  ca1  thro\  ca"  thro\  For  we  hue 


mei-kle   a  -  do;     Hey,  ca1  ihro\  ca'  thro\  For  we   hae    inei-kle     a  -  do! 


UP  wi'  the  carls  o'  Dysart 
And  the  lads  o'  Buckhaven, 

And  the  kimmers  o'  Largo 
And  the  lasses  o'  Leven. 

CHORUS.  Hey,  ca1  thro1,  ca"1  thro1, 

For  we  hae  meikle  ado ; 
Hey,  co*  thro',  ca1  thro', 
For  we  hae  meikle  ado! 


We  hae  tales  to  tell, 

And  we  hae  sangs  to  sing  ; 
We  hae  pennies  to  spend, 

And  we  hae  pints  to  bring. 

We'll  live  a'  our  days, 

And  them  that  comes  behin', 
Let  them  do  the  like, 

And  spend  the  gear  they  win. 


2l6 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  242.    Gane  is  the  day. 

Tune  :  Gudewife,  count  the  lawin.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  313. 
Brightly 


Gane       is     the  day,  and  mirk's  the  night,  But    we'll  ne'er  stray  for   faut     o' 


light,    For     ale     and  bran -dy's  stars    and  moon,  And  blude  -  red  wine 's    the 
CHORUS. 


ry  -  sin    sun.     Then^  gude-wife^  count  the  law  •  tn,    The    law  -  in,     the   law  - 


in;  Then ^gudewife^  count  the    law  -   in,  And  bring     a    cog-gie     ntair. 

GANE  is  the  day,  and  mirk's  the  night, 
But  we'll  ne'er  stray  for  faut  o'  light, 
For  ale  and  brandy 's  stars  and  moon, 
And  blude-red  wine  's  the  rysin  sun. 

CHORUS,     Then,  gudewtfe,  count  the  lawin, 

The  lawin,  the  lawin  ; 
Then,  gudewtfe,  count  the  lawin, 
And  bring  a  coggie  mair. 

There's  wealth  and  ease  for  gentlemen, 
And  simple  folk  maun  fecht  and  fen' ; 
But  here  we're  a'  in  ae  accord, 
For  ilka  man  that 's  drunk 's  a  lord. 

My  coggie  is  a  haly  pool, 

That  heals  the  wounds  o'  care  and  dool, 

And  pleasure  is  a  wanton  trout : 

And  ye  drink  it  a',  ye'll  find  him  out ! 


No.  243.    Come,  dumpers  high  !   express  your  joy  ! 

Tune  :  Ye? re  welcome  Charlie  Stewart  (see  No.  26). 

CHORUS.     You're  welcome,    Willie  Stewart! 

You're  welcome,    Willie  Stewart! 
There 's  ne'er  a  flower  that  blooms  in  May, 
That^s  half  sae  welcome's  thou  art! 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


217 


COME,  bumpers  high  !    express  your  joy  ! 

The  bowl  we  maun  renew  it  — 
The  tappet-hen,  gae  bring  her  ben, 

To  welcome  Willie  Stewart! 

May  foes  be  strang,  and  friends  be  slack  ! 

Ilk  action  may  he  rue  it ; 
May  woman  on  him  turn  her  back, 

That  wrangs  thee,  Willie  Stewart ! 


No.  244.    Contented  wi    little  and  canty  wi    mair. 

Tune  :  Lumps  of  Pudding.  Durfey's  Pills,  1720,  vi.  p.  300. 

Cheerily 


Con    -    tent  -  ed      wi'      lit  -  tie      and     can    -   tie       wi'  mair, 


^ 


— F 

When  -  e'er        I         for  -  gath  -  er        wi'       sor   -    row  and    care,        I 


gie      them 


skelp     as    they're    creep   -  in     a   •   lang,      Wi' 


cog 


guid    swats     and     an 


auld         Scot  -  tish    sang. 


CONTENTED  wi'  little  and  cantie  wi'  mair, 
Whene'er  I  forgather  wi'  sorrow  and  care, 
I  gie  them  a  skelp  as  they're  creepin  alang, 
Wi'  a  cog  o'  guid  swats  and  an  auld  Scottish  sang. 

I  whyles  claw  the  elbow  o'  troublesome  thought  ;    . 

But  man  is  a  soger,  and  life  is  a  faught  ; 

My  mirth  and  guid  humour  are  coin  in  my  pouch, 

And  my  freedom's  my  lairdship  nae  monarch  daur  touch. 

A  towmond  o'  trouble,  should  that  be  my  fa', 
A  night  o1  guid  fellowship  sowthers  it  a'  : 
When  at  the  blythe  end  o'  our  journey  at  last, 
Wha  the  deil  ever  thinks  o'  the  road  he  has  past  ! 
Blind  Chance,  let  her  snapper  and  stoyte  on  her  way, 
Be't  to  me,  be't  frae  me,  e'en  let  the  jade  gae  ! 
Come  ease  or  come  travail,  come  pleasure  or  pain, 
My  warst  word  is  :  —  '  Welcome,  and  welcome  again  !  * 


218 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  245.    /  had  sax  owsen  in  a  pleugh. 

Tune  :  The  bottom  of  the  punch  bowl.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  542. 


i 


CHORUS. 


a/<?  comes  ^  andgude      ale     goes,      Gude  ale    gars       me 


I — 1 1 V <-     -"- 

sell   my    hoset     Sell  my  hose     and  pawn      my    shoon — Gude  ale       keeps 
Fine. 


my    heart     a  -  boon! 


had 


sax       ow  -  sen 


r  r  r 


S 


pleugh,  And    they     drew        a'         weel     e  -  neugh :     I         sell'd       them     a1 

D.C. 


just  ane  by        ane—    Gude    ale         keeps       the    heart     a  -  boon. 

CHORUS.     O  gude  ale  comes,  and  gude  ale  goes, 
Gude  ale  gars  me  sell  my  hose, 
Sell  my  hose,  and  pawn  my  shoon — 
Gude  ale  keeps  my  heart  aboon  ! 

I  HAD  sax  owsen  in  a  pleugh, 
And  they  drew  a'  weel  eneugh  : 
I  sell'd  them  a'  just  ane  by  ane — 
Gude  ale  keeps  the  heart  aboon. 

Gude  ale  hauds  me  bare  and  busy, 
Gars  me  moop  wi'  the  servant  hizzie, 
Stand  i'  the  stool  when  I  hae  dune — 
Gude  ale  keeps  the  heart  aboon. 


VI.     THE    JOLLY    BEGGARS 


219 


\ 


VI.     THE    JOLLY  BEGGARS. 


A  Cantata. 


[No.  246.] 


RECITATIVO. 


WHEN  lyart  leaves  bestrow  the  yird, 
Or,  wavering  like  the  bauckie-bird, 

Bedim  cauld  Boreas'  blast ; 

When  hailstanes  drive  wi'  bitter  skyte, 

And  infant  frosts  begin  to  bite, 

In  hoary  cranreuch  drest ; 

Ae  night  at  e'en  a  merry  core 

O'  randie,  gangrel  bodies 
In  Poosie  Nansie's  held  the  splore, 
To  drink  their  orra  duddies  : 
Wi'  quaffing  and  laughing 

They  ranted  an'  they  sang, 
Wi'  jumping  an'  thumping, 
The  vera  girdle  rang. 

First,,  niest  the  fire,  in  auld  red  rags 
Ane  sat ;   weel  braced  wi'  mealy  bags 

And  knapsack  a'  in  order ; 
His  doxy  lay  within  his  arm, 
Wi'  usquebae  and  blankets  warm 

She  blinket  on  her  sodger: 
An'  ay  he  gies  the  tozie  drab 

The  tither  skelpin  kiss, 
While  she  held  up  her  greedy  gab 
Just  like  an  aumous  dish  : 

Ilk  smack  still,  did  crack  still, 

Just  like  a  cadger's  whip, 
Then  staggering  an'  swaggering 
He  roar'd  this  ditty  up  : — 


220 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


Tune  :  Soldier's  joy.         [McGlashan's  Scots  Measures,  1781,  p.  32.] 
Boldly 


33: 


am       a       son      of     Mars,    who   have    been    in      ma  -  ny  wars, 


^ 


3^ 


And       show    my    cuts    and     scars        wherever          I      come;     This     here 


£= 


was    for       a      wench,  and    that        oth  -  er       in        a     trench    When      wel- 

-x  CHORUS.  ,— 


com-ing     the    French  at      the     sound  of     the  drum.      Lai        de         dau 


I  AM  a  son  of  Mars,  who  have  been  in  many  wars, 
And  show  my  cuts  and  scars  wherever  I  come  ; 
This  here  was  for  a  wench,  and  that  other  in  a  trench 
When  welcoming  the  French  at  the  sound  of  the  drum. 
CHORUS.     Lai  de  daudle,  <S°c. 

My  prenticeship  I  past,  where  my  leader  breath'd  his  last, 
When  the  bloody  die  was  cast  on  the  heights  of  Abram  : 
And  I  served  out  my  trade,  when  the  gallant  game  was  play'd, 
And  the  Moro  low  was  laid  at  the  sound  of  the  drum. 

I  lastly  was  with  Curtis,  among  the  floating  batt'ries, 
And  there  I  left  for  witness  an  arm  and  a  limb ; 
Yet  let  my  country  need  me,  with  Elliot  to  head  me, 
I'd  clatter  on  my  stumps  at  the  sound  of  a  drum. 

And  now,  tho1  I  must  beg  with  a  wooden  arm  and  leg, 
And  many  a  tatter'd  rag  hanging  over  my  bum, 
I'm  as  happy  with  my  wallet,  my  bottle,  and  mp,  callet, 
As  when  I  us'd  in  scarlet  to  follow  a  drum. 


VI.     THE   JOLLY    BEGGARS 


221 


What  tho'  with  hoary  locks  I  must  stand  the  winter  shocks, 
Beneath  the  woods  and  rocks  oftentimes  for  a  home  ! 
When  the  t'other  bag  I  sell,  and  the  t'other  bottle  tell, 
I  could  meet  a  troop  of  hell  at  the  sound  of  a  drum. 


[No.  247.] 


RECITATIVO. 

HE  ended ;   and  the  kebars  sheuk 

Aboon  the  chorus  roar ; 
While  frighted  rattons  backward  leuk, 

An*  seek  the  benmost  bore  : 
A  fairy  fiddler  frae.  the  neuk, 

He  skirl'd  out,   <  Encore  ! ' 
But  up  arose  the  martial  chuck, 

An'  laid  the  loud  uproar : — 


AIR. 

Tune  :  Sodger  laddie.         [Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  27.] 
Moderate 


-F- 

I         once  was      a     maid  tho'      I         can   -  not   tell      when,     And 


still       my      de  -  light     is        in        pro -per  young  men;  Someone        of 


troop       of         dra  -  goons    was   my    dad  -  ie ;      No       won  -  der 

CHORUS.    ^ — 


I'm      fond    of       a         sodg   -   er       lad  -  die.         Stn^        lal  de 

tr  ^— 


222      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


I  ONCE  was  a  maid  tho'  I  cannot  tell  when, 
And  still  my  delight  is  in  proper  young  men  ; 
Some  one  of  a  troop  of  dragoons  was  my  dadie  ; 
No  wonder  I'm  fond  of  a  sodger  laddie. 

CHORUS.     Sing,  Lai  de  lal,  &c. 


The  first  of  my  loves  was  a  swaggering  blade  ; 
To  rattle  the  thundering  drum  was  his  trade  ; 
His  leg  was  so  tight  and  his  cheek  was  so  ruddy, 
Transported  I  was  with  my  sodger  laddie. 

But  the  godly  old  chaplain  left  him  in  the  lurch  ; 
The  sword  I  forsook  for  the  sake  of  the  church  ; 
He  ventur'd  the  soul,  and  I  risked  the  body ; 
'Twas  then  I  proved  false  to  my  sodger  laddie. 

Full  soon  I  grew  sick  of  my  sanctified  sot ; 
The  regiment  at  large  for  a  husband  I  got ; 
From  the  gilded  spontoon  to  the  fife  I  was  ready  ; 
I  asked  no  more  but  a  sodger  laddie. 

But  the  peace  it  reduc'd  me  to  beg  in  despair, 
Till  I  met  my  old  boy  in  a  Cunningham  fair ; 
His  rags  regimental  they  flutter'd  so  gaudy  ; 
My  heart  it  rejoic'd  at  a  sodger  laddie. 

And  now  I  have  lived — I  know  not  how  long! 

And  still  I  can  join  in  a  cup  and  a  song ; 

But  whilst  with  both  hands  I  can  hold  the  glass  steady, 

Here's  to  thee,  my  hero,  my  sodger  laddie. 


[No.  248.] 


RECITATIVO. 


POOR  Merry  Andrew,  in  the  neuk 

Sat  guzzling  wi'  a  tinkler-hizzie ; 
They  mind't  na  wha  the  chorus  teuk, 

Between  themsels  they  were  sae  busy: 
At  length  wi'  drink  an'  courting  dizzy, 

He  stoiter'd  up  an'  made  a  face  ; 
Then  turn'd  an'  laid  a  smack  on  Grizzie, 

Syne  tun'd  his  pipes  wi'  grave  grimace 


VI.     THE    JOLLY    BEGGARS 


223 


Tune  :  Auld  Sir  Symon.         [Pills  to  Purge  Melancholy,  1719,  iii.  p.  143.] 
Andante 


Sir  Wisdom 's  a   fool  when  he's  fou  ;  Sir  Knave  is   a    fool   in     a   ses  -  sion, 


He 's  there  but  a  prentice    I       trow,      But    I    am    a   fool  by  pro-fes-sion. 


SIR  Wisdom 's  a  fool  when  he's  fou  ; 

Sir  Knave  is  a  fool  in  a  session, 
He 's  there  but  a  prentice  I  trow, 

But  I  am  a  fool  by  profession. 

My  grannie  she  bought  me  a  beuk, 
An*  I  held  awa  to  the  school ; 

I  fear  I  my  talent  misteuk, 

But  what  will  ye  hae  of  a  fool  ? 

For  drink  I  would  venture  my  neck ; 

A  hizzie  Js  the  half  of  my  craft ; 
But  what  could  ye  other  expect 

Of  ane  that 's  avowedly  daft  ? 


I  ance  was  tied  up  like  a  stirk 

For  civilly  swearing  and  quaffing  ; 

I  ance  was  abus'd  i'  the  kirk 
For  towsing  a  lass  i'  my  daffin. 

Poor  Andrew  that  tumbles  for  sport 
Let  naebody  name  wi'  a  jeer  : 

There 's  even,  I'm  tauld,  i'  the  Court 
A  tumbler  ca'd  the  Premier. 

Observed  ye  yon  reverend  lad 
Mak  faces  to  tickle  the  mob  ; 

He  rails  at  our  mountebank  squad, — 
It's  rivalship  just  i'  the  job  ! 


And  now  my  conclusion  I'll  tell, 
For  faith!    I'm  confoundedly  dry; 

The  chiel  that's  a  fool  for  hims.el, 
Gude  Lord !   he 's  far  dafter  than  I. 


[No.  249.] 


RECITATIVO. 


THEN  niest  outspak  a  raucle  carlin, 
Wha  kent  fu'  weel  to  cleek  the  sterlin ; 
.  For  mony  a  pursie  she  had  hooked, 
An'  had  in  mony  a  well  been  douked. 
Her  love  had  been  a  Highland  laddie, 
But  weary  fa"  the  waefu'  woodie ! 
Wi'  Sighs  an'  sobs  she  thus  began 
To  wail  her  braw  John  Highlandman  : — 


224 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


AIR. 

Tune  :  O}  an  ye  were  dead,  Guidman.  \_Cal.  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  p.  24.] 
Cheerily  tr 


A        high-land  lad    my  love  was  born,  The  lal-land  laws  he    held    in 


scorn,   But  he     still  was   faith -fu*       to       his    clan,  My   gal-lant,    braw 
CHORUS. 


m 


John     High-land-man.     Sing     hey    my    braw   John     High  -  land-  man ! 


Sing         ho        my   braw  John  Highlandman !  Therms  not        a        lad 

tr 


in  a?         the     Ian1  Was  match  for      my    John  High  -  land-man ! 


A  HIGHLAND  lad  my  love  was  born, 
The  lalland  laws  he  held  in  scorn, 
But  he  still  was  faithfu'  to  his  clan, 
My  gallant,  braw  John  Highlandman. 

CHORUS.     Sing  hey  my  braw  John  Highlandman ! 
Sing  ho  my  braw  John  Highlandman ! 
There^s  not  a  lad  in  a'  the  Ian' 
Was  match  for  my  John  Highlandman ! 


With  his  philabeg  an'  tartan  plaid, 
An*  guid  claymore  down  by  his  side, 
The  ladies'  hearts  he  did  trepan, 
My  gallant, braw  John  Highlandman. 

We  ranged  a1  from  Tweed  to  Spey, 
An'  liv'd  like  lords  an'  ladies  gay  ; 
For  a  lalland  face  he  feared  none, — 
My  gallant,   braw   John   Highland- 
man. 

They  banish'd  him  beyond  the  sea, 
But  ere  the  bud  was  on  the  tree, 


Adown  my  cheeks  the  pearls  ran, 
Embracing  my  John  Highlandman. 

But,  och !  they  catch'd  him  at  the  last, 
And  bound  him  in  a  dungeon  fast ; 
My  curse  upon  them  every  one — 
They've  hang'd  my  braw  John  High- 
landman ! 

• 

And  now  a  widow  I  must  mourn 
The  pleasures  that  will  ne'er  return  ; 
No  comfort  but  a  hearty  can, 
When  I  think  on  John  Highlandman. 


VI.     THE    JOLLY    BEGGARS 


225 


[NO.     250.]  RECITATIVO. 

A  PIGMY  scraper  wi'  his  fiddle, 

Wha  us'd  to  trystes  an'  fairs  to  driddle, 

Her  strappan  limb  an1  gausy  middle 

(He  reach'd  nae  higher) 
Had  hol'd  his  heartie  like  a  riddle, 

An'  blawn't  on  fire. 

Wi'  hand  on  hainch,  and  upward  e'e, 
He  croon'd  his  gamut,  one,  two,  three, 
Then  in  an  arioso  key 

The  wee  Apollo, 
Set  off  wi'  allegretto  glee 

His  giga  solo  : — 

AIR. 

Tune  :  Whistle  owre  the  lave  o't.         [Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1759,  p.  56.] 
Moderately  tr  tr 


Let   me   ryke    up    to   dight  that  tear,  An'     go    wi'  me     an'    be    my 
tr  tr 


dear,  An'  then  your  ev  •  ry   care  an'    fear  May  whis-tle  owre  the   lave  o't. 

tr  tr 


CHORUS.    /        am     a      jid-dler  fo   my  trade •,  At?    a1    the  tunes  that  e" er  I  play' 'd, 


The   sweet -est  still  to  wife    or  maid  Was— Whistle  owre  the   lave  o't. 


LET  me  ryke  up  to  dight  that  tear, 
An'  go  wi'  me  an'  be  my  dear, 
An'  then  your  every  care  an'  fear 
May  whistle  owre  the  lave  o't. 

CHORUS. 

I  am  a  fiddler  to  my  trade, 
An'  a'  the  tunes  that  e'er  I  play' d, 
The  sweetest  still  to  wife  or  maid 
Was —  Whistle  owre  the  lave  o't. 

At  kirns  an'  weddins  we'se  be  there, 
An'  O,  sae  nicely 's  we  will  fare  ! 


We'll  bowse  about  till  Dadie  Care 
Sing,  Whistle  owre  the  lave  o't. 

Sae  merrily 's  the  banes  we'll  pyke, 
An'  sun  oursels  about  the  dyke ; 
An'  at  our  leisure,  when  ye  like 
We'll  whistle  owre  the  lave  o't. 

But   bless  me   wi'   your  heav'n  p' 

charms, 

An'  while  I  kittle  hair  on  thairms, 
Hunger,  cauld,  an'  a'  sic  harms 
May  whistle  owre  the  lave  o'.t. 


226 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


[No,  251.] 


RECITATIVO. 

HER  charms  had  struck  a  sturdy  caird 

As  weel  as  poor  gut-scraper ; 
He  taks  the  fiddler  by  the  beard, 

An*  draws  a  roosty  rapier- 
He  swoor  by  a'  was  swearing  worth 
.    To  speet  him  like  a  pliver, 
Unless  he  would  from  that  time  forth 
Relinquish  her  for  ever. 

Wi'  ghastly  e'e,  poor  Tweedle  dee 

Upon  his  hunkers  bended, 
An'  pray'd  for  grace  wi'  ruefu'  face, 

An'  so  the  quarrel  ended. 
But  tho'  his  little  heart  did  grieve 

When  round  the  tinkler  prest  her, 
He  feign'd  to  snirtle  in  his  sleeve 

When  thus  the  caird  address'd  her  :- 


Tune  :  Clout  the  caudron.         {Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  23.] 
Lively 


My    bon  -  ie    lass,    I    work   in  brass,  A     tink  -  ler    is     my  sta  -  tion ;  I've 


tra-vell'd  round  all  Christian  ground  In    this  my    oc  -  cu   -   pa  -  tion  ;          I've 


ta'en  the  gold,  an'  been  en-roll'd   In    many  a      no    -   ble    squadron :  But    vain 


they  search'd,  when  off        I     march'd    To          go    an'  clout    the    caudron. 

MY  bonie  lass,  I  work  in  brass, 

A  tinkler  is  my  station  ; 
I've  travell'd  round  all  Christian  ground 

In  this  my  occupation ; 
I've  ta'en  the  gold,  an'  been  enroll'd 

In  many  a  noble  squadron  : 
But  vain  they  search'd,  when  off  I  march'd 

To  go  an'  clout  the  caudron. 

I've  ta'en  the  gold,  &c. 


VI.     THE    JOLLY    BEGGARS  227 

Despise  that  shrimp,  that  wither'd  imp, 

With  a'  his  noise  an'  cap'rin, 
An'  take  a  share  with  those  that  bear 

The  budget  and  the  apron : 
And  by  that  stowp,  my  faith  and  houpe, 

And  by  that  dear  Kilbaigie, 
If  e'er  ye  want,  or  meet  with  scant, 

May  I  ne'er  weet  my  craigie ! 

And  by  that  stowp,  &c. 


[No.  252.] 


RECITATIVO. 


I 


THE  caird  prevail'd — th'  unblushing  fair 

In  his  embraces  sunk, 
Partly  wi'  love,  o'ercome  sae  sair, 

An'  partly  she  was  drunk. 
Sir  Violino,  with  an  air 

That  show'd  a  man  o'  spunk, 
Wish'd  unison  between  the  pair, 

An'  made  the  bottle  clunk 

To  their  health  that  night. 

But  hurchin  Cupid  shot  a  shaft 

That  play'd  a  dame  a  shavie; 
The  fiddler  rak'd  her  fore  and  aft, 

Behint  the  chicken  cavie. 
Her  lord,  a  wight  of  Homer's*  craft, 

Tho'  limpan  wi'  the  spavie, 
He  hirpl'd  up,  and  lap  like  daft, 

And  shor'd  them  Dainty  Davie 
O'  boot  that  night. 

He  was  a  care-defying  blade 

As  ever  Bacchus  listed  1 
Tho'  Fortune  sair  upon  him  laid, 

His  heart,  she  ever  miss'd  it. 
He  had  no  wish  but — to  be  glad, 

Nor  want  but— when  he  thristed ; 
He  hated  nought  but— to  be  sad  ; 

An'  thus  the  Muse  suggested 

His  sang  that  night: — 

*  Homer  is  allowed  to  be  the  eldest  ballad  singer  on  record.— BURNS. 

Q2 


228 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


Tune  : — For  «'  that,  an1  a  that. 
Andante 


[Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1759,  P-  52-] 


£ 


am     a    bard,  of     no     re  -  gard  Wi'    gen  -  tie  folks  an'    a'  that ; 


Homer  -  like,  the  glow-ran  byke,  Frae  town  to  town    I    draw  that. 


t)  an?     a1        that,    An1  twice    as  muckle^s       a1     that; 


lost    but  ane,  I've  twa    be-hin\  Pve  wife     e-neugh  for  a'    that. 


I  AM  a  bard,  of  no  regard 
Wi'  gentle  folks  an'  a'  that ; 

But  Homer-like,  the  glowran  byke, 
Frae  town  to  town  I  draw  that. 

CHORUS. 

For  «'  that,  -an1  a"1  that, 

An1  twice  as  muckle's  a"  that ; 
I've  lost  but  ane,  I've  twa  behin1, 
I've  wife  eneugh  for  a1  that. 

I  never  drank  the  Muses'  stank, 
Castalia's  burn,  an'  a'  that ; 

But  there  it  streams,  an'  richly  reams, 
My  Helicon  I  ca'  that. 

Great  love  I  bear  to  all  the  fair, 
Their  humble  slave  an'  a'  that ; 


But  lordly  will,  I  hold  it  still 
A  mortal  sin  to  thraw  that. 

In  raptures  sweet,  this  hour  we  meet, 
Wi'  mutual  love  an'  a'  that : 

But  for  how  lang  the  flie  may  stang, 
Let  inclination  law  that. 

Their  tricks  an'  craft  hae  put  me  daft, 
They've  taen  me  in,  an'  a'  that ; 

But  clear  your  decks,  an'  here 's  '  the 

Sex!' 
I  like  the  jads  for  a  that. 

for  a'  that,  an'  a1  that, 

Art  twice  as  muckle's  a'  that ; 

My  dearest  bluid,  to  do  them  guid, 
They  re  welcome  till" t  for  a'  that. 


[No.  253.] 


RECITATIVO. 


So    sung  the    bard  —  and   Nansie's 

wa's 

Shook  with  a  thunder  of  applause 
Re-echoed  from  each  mouth  ! 
They  toom'd  their  pocks,  theypawn'd 

their  duds, 

They  scarcely  left  to  coor  their  fuds 
To  quench  their  lowan  drouth  : 


Then  owre  again,  the  jovial  thrang, 

The  poet  did  request 
To  lowse  his  pack  and"  wale  a  sang, 
A  ballad  o'  the  best ; 
He  rising,  rejoicing, 

Between  his  twa  Debbrahs, 

Looks  round  him,  an'  found  them 

Impatient  for  the  chorus : — 


VI.     THE    JOLLY    BEGGARS 


229 


Tune  :  Jolly  Mortals,  fill  your  glasses.         [Ritson's  English  Songs,  1783.] 


05 

m 

- 

4 

F 

Sm 

r 

r 

\-   •      * 

m  !     *      i 

r 

-VT 

~~ 

I 

«y 

See 

o  4 

1 

the 

1 
.    smok    -   ing 

—  '         U- 
bowl          b 

• 

e 

•    fore 

\ 

is, 

1 
Mark       our 

y  4f 

l"^            1 

-  SLU 

^     r  — 

»  — 

-J-:     =3- 

r-  P  — 

*  

*- 

I—-—  J-H 

jo   -    vial,  rag      -      ged         ring!         Round     and      round        take 


up         the        chor  -  us,       And       in      rap  -  tures      let      us      sing,— 

SEE  the  smoking  bowl  before  us, 

Mark  our  jovial,  ragged  ring ! 
Round  and  round  take  up  the  chorus, 

And  in  raptures  let  us  sing, — 

CHORUS.     A  fig  for  those  by  law  protected  I 

Liberty  1s  a  glorious  feast  I 
Courts  for  cowards  were  erected, 
Churches  built  to  please  the  priest  I 


I 


What  is  title,  what  is  treasure, 
What  is  reputation's  care? 

If  we  lead  a  life  of  pleasure, 
'Tis  no  matter  how  or  where ! 

With  the  ready  trick  and  fable 
Round  we  wander  all  the  day ; 

And  at  night,  in  barn  or  stable 
Hug  our  doxies  on  the  hay. 

Does  the  train-attended  carriage 
Thro'  the  country  lighter  rove  ? 

Does  the  sober  bed  of  marriage 
Witness  brighter  scenes  of  love  ? 


Life  is  all  a  variorum, 

We  regard  not  how  it  goes  ; 
Let  them  cant  about  decorum, 

Who  have  character  to  lose. 

Here's  to  budgets,  bags,  and  wallets! 

Here's  to  all  the  wandering  train  ! 
Here 's  our  ragged  brats  and  callets ! 

One  and  all,  cry  out, — '  Amen  ' ! 

A  fig  for  those  by  law  protected! 

Liberty 's  a  glorious  feast ! 
Courts  for  cowards  were  erected, 

Churches  built  to  please  the  priest ! 


230      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


VII.    PATRIOTIC   AND    POLITICAL 


No.  254.    Amang  the  trees,  where  humming  bees. 

Tune :  The  king  of  France  he  rade  a  race.     Cal.  Pock.  Comp.,  c.  1756,  viii.  p.  26. 


A  -  mang  the   trees,  where  hum- ming  bees     At    buds  and  flow'rs  were 


hing-ing,      O,  Auld    Cal  -  e  -  don    drew  out    her   drone,  And    to    her 


pipe   was     sing  -  ing,     O  :       'Twas     pi-broch,  sang,  strath  •  speys,  and  reels, 


She    dirl'd  them    aff       fu1       clear  .  ly,      O,  When  there  cam     a      yell 


foreign  squeels,  That  dang      her      tap    -    sal    -    tee  -  rie,      O ! 


AMANG  the  trees,  where  humming  bees 

At  buds  and  flow'rs  were  hinging,  O, 
Auld  Caledon  drew  out  her  drone, 

And  to  her  pipe  was  singing,  O : 
'Twas  pibroch,  sang,  strathspeys,  and  reels - 

She  dirl'd  them  aff  fu'  clearly,  O, 
When  there  cam  a  yell  o'  foreign  squeels, 

That  dang  her  tapsalteerie,  O ! 

Their  capon  craws  and  queer  '  ha,  ha's,' 

They  made  our  lugs  grow  eerie,  O ; 
The  hungry  bike  did  scrape  and  fyke, 

Till  we  were  wae  and  weary,  O. 
But  a  royal  ghaist,  wha  ance  was  cased 

A  prisoner  aughteen  year  awa, 
He  fir'd  a  fiddler  in  the  north, 

That  dang  them  tapsalteerie,  O  ! 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


231 


No.  255.    Scots,  wha  hae  wij  Wallace  bled. 


Tune:  Hey,  tutti  taitie. 

Boldly 


Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1801. 


LJUl>U>i>Jf  . 


Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace   bled,  Scots,  wham  Bruce    has     af  -  ten     led, 


Wei  -come    to    your    got  -  y 


bed 


Or 


to     vie  -  tor    -    ie! 


Now  's  the   day,    and  now  's  the  hour :  See    the    front     o'      bat  -  tie    lour, 


=5   J>    zte— —1 

+—+.  Jn=^= 


See     approach  proud  Ed  -  ward's  power—  Chains  and   sla    -    ver   -    ie ! 


SCOTS,  wha  hae  wi1  WALLACE  bled, 
Scots,  wham  BRUCE  has  aften  led, 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed 
Or  to  victorie ! 

Now's  the  day,  and  now^s  the  hour 
See  the  front  o'  battle  lour, 
See  approach  proud  Edward's  power- 
Chains  and  slaverie  I 

Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave? 
Wha  can  fill  a  coward's  grave? 
Wha  sae  base  as  be  a  slave? — 
Let  him  turn,  and  flee ! 

Wha  for  SCOTLAND'S  king  and  law 
FREEDOM'S  sword  will  strongly  draw, 
Freeman  stand  or  freeman  fa', 
Let  him  follow  me! 

By  Oppression's  woes  and  pains, 
By  your  sons  in  servile  chains, 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins 
But  they  shall  be  free ! 

Lay  the  proud  usurpers  low! 
Tyrants  fall  in  every  foe ! 
LIBERTY  's  in  every  blow ! — 
Let  us  do,  or  die ! 


232 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  256.    O,  wha  will  to  Saint  Stephens  house. 

Tune:  Killiecrankie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  102. 
Briskly 


O,      wha     will    to    Saint  Ste-phen's  house,  To       do         our        er    - 


rands      there,   man?    O,         wha     will    to    Saint    Ste-phen's  house     O' 


s 


th'    merry  luds        of        Ayr,  man?  Or,        will    ye  send    a      man       o' 


±=p=£=4 

— FFi 


law?    Or     will       ye        send       a          sodg-er?  Or    him     wha      led    o'er 


^ 


Scot  -land 


The        mei    -    kle 


Ur 


Ma    .    jor? 


O,  WHA  will  to  Saint  Stephen's  house, 

To  do  our  errands  there,  man? 
O,  wha  will  to  Saint  Stephen's  house 

O'  th'  merry  lads  of  Ayr,  man  ? 
Or  will  ye  send  a  man  o'  law? 

Or  will  ye  send  a  sodger? 
Or  him  wha  led  o'er  Scotland  a* 

The  meikle  Ursa  Major? 

Come,  will  ye  court  a  noble  lord, 

Or  buy  a  score  o'  lairds,  man  ? 
For  worth  and  honour  pawn  their  word, 

Their  vote  shall  be  Glencaird's,  man? 
Ane  gies  them  coin,  ane  gies  them  wine, 

Anither  gies  them  clatter ; 
Annbank,  wha  guessed  the  ladies'  taste, 

He  gies  a  Fete  Champetre. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


233 


f 


When  Love  and  Beauty  heard  the  news 

The  gay  greenwoods  amang,  man  ; 
Where,  gathering  flowers  and  busking  bowers, 

They  heard  the  blackbird's  sang,  man  ; 
A  vow,  they  seal'd  it  with  a  kiss, 

Sir  Politics  to  fetter; 
As  theirs  alone,  the  patent  bliss 

To  hold  a  Fete  Champetre. 

Then  mounted  Mirth  on  gleesome  wing, 

O'er  hill  and  dale  she  flew,  man ; 
Ilk  wimpling  burn,  ilk  crystal  spring, 

Ilk  glen  and  shaw  she  knew,  man: 
She  summon'd  every  social  sprite, 

That  sports  by  wood  or  water, 
On  th'  bonie  banks  of  Ayr  to  meet 

And  keep  this  Fete  Champetre. 

Cauld  Boreas  wi'  his  boisterous  crew 

Were  bound  to  stakes  like  kye,  man ; 
And  Cynthia's  car,  o'  silver  fu', 

Clamb  up  the  starry  sky,  man  : 
Reflected  beams  dwell  in  the  streams, 

Or  down  the  current  shatter; 
The  western  breeze  steals  thro'  the  trees 

To  view  this  Fete  Champetre. 

How  many  a  robe  sae  gaily  floats, 

What  sparkling  jewels  glance,  man, 
To  Harmony's  enchanting  notes, 

As  moves  the  mazy  dance,  man ! 
The  echoing  wood,  the  winding  flood 

Like  paradise  did  glitter, 
When  angels  met  at  Adam's  yett 

To  hold  their  Fete  Champetre. 

When  Politics  came  there  to  mix 

And  make  his  ether-stane,  man ! 
He  circled  round  the  magic  ground, 

But  entrance  found  he  nane,  man  : 
He  blush'd  for  shame,  he  quat  his  name, 

Forswore  it  every  letter, 
Wi'  humble  prayer  to  join  and  share 

This  festive  Fete  Champetre, 


234 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  257.   How  can  my  poor  heart  be  glad? 

Tune  :  O'er  the  hills  and  far  away.         Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  v.  p.  316. 


How      can        my       poor    heart     be    glad  When    ab    -   sent     from       my 
CHORUS.  On     the       seas      and     far       a  -  way,     On    storm  -  y         seas      and 


sai  -  lor  lad  ?    How  can         I          the    thought  forego—  He 's    on    the    seas  to 
far    a-way ;  Night-ly    dreams    and  thoughts  by  day  Are     ay  with  him  that" s 
Fine. 


meet  the  foe?  Let  me  wander,  Let  me  rove,  Still  my  heart   is        with  my      love: 
far  a  -  way. 

D.  C.  for  Chorus. 


Night  -  ly  dreams  and  thoughts  by  day  Are      with    him  that 's  far       a  -  way. 

How  can  my  poor  heart  be  glad 
When  absent  from  my  sailor  lad? 
How  can  I  the  thought  forego — 
He's  on  the  seas  to  meet  the  foe? 
Let  me  wander,  let  me  rove, 
Still  my  heart  is  with  my  love : 
Nightly  dreams  and  thoughts  by  day 
Are  with  him  that's  far  away. 

On  the  seas  and  far  away, 

On  stormy  seas  and  far  away; 

Nightly  dreams  and  thoughts  by  day 

Are  ay  with  him  that's  far  away. 

When  in  summer  noon  I  faint, 

As  weary  flocks  around  me  pant, 

Haply  in  this  scorching  sun 

My  sailor's  thund'ring  at  his  gun. 

Bullets,  spare  my  onty  joy ! 

Bullets,  spare  my  darling  boy ! 

Fate,  do  with  me  what  you  may, 

Spare  but  him  that 's  far  away !    .    - 
On  the  seas  and  far  away, 
On  stormy  seas  and  far  away — 
Fate,  do  with  me  what  you  may, 
Spare  but  him  that 's  far  away ! 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


235 


At  the  starless,  midnight  hour, 

When  winter  rules  with  boundless  power, 

As  the  storms  the  forest  tear, 

And  thunders  rend  the  howling  air, 

Listening  to  the  doubling  roar 

Surging  on  the  rocky  shore, 

All  I  can — I  weep  and  pray 

For  his  weal  that 's  far  away. 
On  the  seas  and  far  away, 
On  stormy  seas  and  far  away, 
All  I  can — I  weep  and  pray 
For  his  weal  that 's  far  away. 

Peace,  thy  olive  wand  extend 

And  bid  wild  War  his  ravage  end  ; 

Man  with  brother  Man  to  meet, 

And  as  brother  kindly  greet ! 

Then  may  Heaven  with  prosperous  gales 

Fill  my  sailor's  welcome  sails, 

To  my  arms  their  charge  convey 

My  dear  lad  that's  far  away. 
On  the  seas  and  far  away, 
On  stormy  seas  and  far  away, 
To  my  arms  their  charge  convey 
My  dear  lad  that's  far  away! 


No.  258.    There  was  on  a  time. 

Tune :  Caledonian  hunfs  delight  (see  No.  123), 

THERE  was  on  a  time,  but  old  Time  was  then  young, 

That  brave  Caledonia,  the  chief  of  her  line, 
From  some  of  your  northern  deities  sprung, 

(Who  knows  not  that  brave  Caledonia's  divine?) 
From  Tweed  to  the  Orcades  was  her  domain, 

To  hunt,  or  to  pasture,  or  do  what  she  would  : 
Her  heav'nly  relations  there  fixed  her  reign, 

And  pledged  her  their  godheads  to  warrant  it  good. 

A  lambkin  in  peace,  but  a  lion  in  war, 

The  pride  of  her  kindred  the  heroine  grew; 
Her  grandsire,  old  Odin,  triumphantly  swore  : — 

'  Whoe'er  shall  provoke  thee,  th'  encounter  shall  rue ! ' 
With  tillage  or  pasture  at  times  she  would  sport, 

To  feed  her  fair  flocks  by  her  green  rustling  corn  ; 
But  chiefly  the  woods  were  her  fav'rite  resort, 

Her  darling  amusement  the  hounds  and  the  horn. 


236 


TONE-POETRY   OF    ROBERT  -BURNS 


Long  quiet  she  reign'd,  till  thitherward  steers 

A  flight  of  bold  eagles  from  Adria's  strand  : 
Repeated,  successive,  for  many  long  years, 

They  darken'd  the  air,  and  they  plunder'd  the  land. 
Their  pounces  were  murder,  and  horror  their  cry ; 

They'd  conquer'd  and  ravag'd  a  world  beside. 
She  took  to  her  hills,  and  her  arrows  let  fly — 

The  daring  invaders,  they  fled  or  they  died. 

The  fell  harpy-raven  took  wing  from  the  north, 

The  scourge  of  the  seas,  and  the  dread  of  the  shore ; 
The  wild  Scandinavian  boar  issued  forth 

To  wanton  in  carnage  and  wallow  in  gore  : 
O'er  countries  and  kingdoms  their  fury  prevailed, 

No  arts  could  appease  them,  no  arms  could  repel ; 
But  brave  Caledonia  in  vain  they  assail'd, 

As  Largs  well  can  witness,  and  Longcartie  tell. 

The  Cameleon-savage  disturb'd  her  repose, 

With  tumult,  disquiet,  rebellion,  and  strife ; 
Provok'd  beyond  bearing,  at  last  she  arose, 

And  robb'd  him  at  once  of  his  hopes  and  his  life. 
The  Anglian  lion,  the  terror  of  France, 

Oft,  prowling,  ensanguin'd  the  Tweed's  silver  flood, 
But,  taught  by  the  bright  Caledonian  lance, 

He  learned  to  fear  in  his  own  native  wood. 

Thus  bold,  independent,  unconquer'd,  and  free, 

Her  bright  course  of  glory  for  ever  shall  run, 
For  brave  Caledonia  immortal  must  be, 

I'll  prove  it  from  Euclid  as  clear  as  the  sun : — 
Rectangle-triangle,  the  figure  we'll  chuse ; 

The  upright  is  Chance,  and  old  Time  is  the  base, 
But  brave  Caledonia's  the  hypothenuse ; 

Then,  ergo,  she'll  match  them,  and  match  them  always 


No.  259.    Does  haughty  Gaul  invasion  threat? 

Tune  :  Push  about  the  jorum.         Chappell's  Popular  Music,  p.  685. 
Spirited 

>4^^ 


Does     haughty    Gaul     in  •  va-sion  threat?  Then  let     the    louns  be. 


ware,  sir ;  There's  wooden  walls  up  -  on    our  seas,  And      vo  -  lun  -  teers   on 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


237 


j-^i^^gpig^aiga^g 


shore,  sir!       The    Nith  shall  run   to     Cor -sin -con,  The      Crif-fel   sink     in 


Sol -way,  Ere  we     per-mit    a       foreign  foe  On  British  ground  to    ral-ly! 


We'll  ne'er  per-mit    a        foreign     foe    On      British  ground  to     ral-ly! 


DOES  haughty  Gaul  invasion  threat? 

Then  let  the  louns  beware,  sir  ; 
There's  wooden  walls  upon  our  seas, 

And  volunteers  on  shore,  sir! 
The  Nith  shall  run  to  Corsincon, 

The  Criffel  sink  in  Solway, 
Ere  we  permit  a  foreign  foe 

On  British  ground  to  rally  I 

We'll  ne'er  permit  a  foreign  foe 
•    On  British  ground  to  rally  ! 

O,  let  us  not,  like  snarling  tykes, 

In  wrangling  be  divided, 
Till,  slap  !    come  in  an  unco  loun, 

And  wi'  a  rung  decide  it! 
Be  Britain  still  to  Britain  true, 

Amang  oursels  united  ! 
For  never  but  by  British  hands 

Maun  British  wrangs  be  righted  ! 

The  kettle  o'  the  kirk  and  state, 

Perhaps  a  clout  may  fail  in't  ; 
But  deil  a  foreign  tinkler  loun 

Shall  ever  ca'  a  nail  in't  ! 
Our  fathers'  blude  the  kettle  bought, 

And  wha  wad  dare  to  spoil  it  ; 
By  heavens  !    the  sacrilegious  dog  )  ^  . 

Shall  fuel  be  to  boil  it!  t 


bis 


The  wretch  that  would  a  tyrant  own, 

And  the  wretch,  his  true-sworn  brother, 
Who  would  set  the  mob  above  the  throne, 

May  they  be  damn'd  together !        * 
Who  will  not  sing  God  save  the  King 

Shall  hang  as  high 's  the  steeple ; 
But  while  we  sing  God  save  the  King,  )  , . 

We'll  ne'er  forget  the  People ! 


238 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  260.   As  I  stood  by  yon  roofless  tower. 

Tune  :  Cumnock  Psalms.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  405. 
a.    Recit. 


As        I     stood   by     yon      roof-less  tow'r, Where  the  wa'-flow'r  scents  the 


dew    •    y       air,  Where  the        hou  -  let  mourns   in      her  i     -     vy 

/-7\  tempo  /-TX      CHORUS. 


bower,  And     tells       the      mid  -  night  moon       her       care ;  A  las    - 

^E^^^^^^bj^^^^p 

sie    all     a  -  lone    was      mak  -  ing   her  ntoan,      La    -    ment  -  ing  our 


f  • 


/—  '  /«   the       bluid-y    wars  they  fa\  And  our 
tempo 


^±±.l^^j^^=^^^. 

hon-or's  gane  art      a',     And     brok  -en  heart -ed         we    maun  die.'1 


As  I  stood  by  yon  roofless  tower, 

Where  the  wa'-flow'r  scents  the  dewy  air, 

Where  the  houlet  mourns  in  her  ivy  bower, 
And  tells  the  midnight  moon  her  care : 

CHORUS.     A  lassie  all  alone  was  making  her  tnoan, 
Lamenting  our  lads  beyond  the  sea; — 
1  In  the  bluidy  wars  they  fa"1 ', 
And  our  honor 's  gane  an'  a't 
And  broken  hearted  we  maun  die.' 

The  winds  were  laid,  the  air  was  still, 

The  stars  they  shot  along  the  sky, 
The  tod  was  howling  on  the  hill, 

And  the  distant- echoing  glens  reply. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


239 


The  burn,  adown  its  hazelly  path, 
Was  rushing  by  the  ruin'd  wa', 

Hasting  to  join  the  sweeping  Nith, 

Whase  roarings  seem'd  to  rise  and  fa'. 

The  cauld  blae  North  was  streaming  forth 
Her  lights,  wi'  hissin,  eerie  din : 

Athort  the  lift  they  start  and  shift, 
Like  Fortune's  favors,  tint  as  win  ! 

Now,  looking  over  firth  and  fauld, 

Her  horn  the  pale-fac'd  Cynthia  rear'd, 

When  lo  !  in  form  of  minstrel  auld 
A  stern  and  stalwart  ghaist  appear'd. 

And  frae  his  harp  sic  strains  did  flow, 
Might  rous'd  the  slumb'ring  dead  to  hear, 

But  O,  it  was  a  tale  of  woe 
As  ever  met  a  Briton's  ear ! 

He  sang  wi'  joy  his  former  day, 

He,  weeping,  wail'd  his  latter  times  : 

But  what  he  said — it  was  nae  play  ! — 
I  winna  ventur't  in  my  rhymes. 


I 


No.  261.    The  laddies  by  the  banks  o   Nith, 

Tune  :  Up  an1  waur  them  a'  Willie  (see  infra). 

CHORUS.     Up  and  waur  them  a',  Jamie, 

Up  and  waur  them  a' ! 
The  Johnstones  hoe  the  guidin  o't : 
Ye  turncoat  Whigs,  awa  I 

THE  laddies  by  the  banks  o'  Nith 
Wad  trust  his  Grace  wi'  a',  Jamie  ; 

But  he'll  sair  them  as  he  sair'd  the  king — 
Turn  tail  and  rin  awa,  Jamie ! 

The  day  he  stude  his  country's  friend, 

Or  gied  her  faes  a  claw,  Jamie, 
Or  frae  puir  man  a  blessin  wan, — 

That  day  the  Duke  ne'er  saw,  Jamie. 

But  wha  is  he,  his  country's  boast? 

Like  him  there  is  na  twa,  Jamie  ! 
There's  no  a  callant  tents  the  kye, 

But  kens  o'  Westerha',  Jamie. 


240 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


To  end  the  wark,  here's  Whistlebirk ! 

Lang  may  his  whistle  blaw,  Jamie  ! — 
And  Maxwell  true,  o'  sterling  blue, 

And  we'll  be  Johnstone's  a',  Jamie. 


No.- 262.   As  I  cam  down  the  banks  d  Nith. 

(ANOTHER  VERSION.) 
Tune  :   The  black  watch  (see  No.  269). 

As  I  cam  down  the  banks  o'  Nith 

And  by  Glenriddell's  ha,  man, 
There  I  heard  a  piper  play 

Turncoat  Whigs  awa,  man. 

Drumlanrig's  towers  hae  tint  the  powers 
That  kept  the  lands  in  awe,  man  : 

The  eagle's  dead,  and  in  his  stead 
We're  gotten  a  hoodie-craw,  man. 

The  turncoat  Duke  his  King  forsook, 
When  his  back  was  at  the  wa,  man : 

The  rattan  ran  wi'  a'  his  clan 

For  fear  the  house  should  fa',  man. 

The  lads  about  the  banks  o'  Nith 
They  trust  his  Grace  for  a',  man  : 

But  he'll  sair  them  as  he  sair't  his  king, 
Turn  tail  and  rin  awa',  man. 


No.  263.   Farewell  to  the  Highlands. 

Tune  :  The  musket  salute.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  259. 
tr  tr 


CHORUS.  My  hearts  in         the      high-lands,  My  heart  is       not  here.    My 


hearts  in    the     High-lands    a    -    chas-ing     the        deer;       A      -     chas 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


241 


ing       the       wild    deer  and  fol  -  low  -  ing  the        roe —         Myhearfsin 

Fine. 


the        High  -  lands^    wher   -   ev  -  er       I  go.        Fare  -  well       to 


the        High-lands,  fare  -  well     to      the        North,      The      birth  -  place 

tr 


of  val    -    our,        the          coun  -  try      of         worth ;      Wher  -    e\ 


er  I  wan  -  der,  wher   -    ev    -    er  I  rove,        The 

D.  C. 


hills       of      the  High   -   lands        for  ev    -    er       I  love. 


CHORUS.     My  heart 's  in  the  Highlands,  niy  heart  is  not  here, 
My  heart 's  in  the  Highlands  a-chasing  the  deer, 
A.'  chasing  the  wild  deer  and  following  the  roe — 
My  heart  's  in  the  Highlands,  wherever  I  go. 

FAREWELL  to  the  Highlands,  farewell  to  the  North, 
The  birthplace  of  valour,  the  country  of  worth  ; 
Wherever  I  wander,  wherever  I  rove, 
The  hills  of  the  Highlands  for  ever  I  love. 

Farewell  to  the  mountains  high  cover'd  with  snow, 
Farewell  to  the  straths  and  green  vallies  below, 
Farewell  to  the  forests  and  wild-hanging  woods, 
Farewell  to  the  torrents  and  loud-pouring  floods ! 


242 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  264.    Fareweel  to  a   our  Scottish  fame. 

Tune :  A  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  378. 
Andante 


Fare  -  weel      to       a'    our    Scot  -  tish  fame,    Fare  -  weel      our     an  -  cient 


glo  -  ry;    Fare  -  weel  ev-en    to    the      Scot  -  tish  name,  Sae       fam'd     in 


mar  -  tial          sto    -    ry !          Now       Sark      rins        ov  -   er          Sol    -    way 


sands,    An1    Tweed  rins     to       the  o    -    cean,     To        mark    where  Eng 

/T\ 


land's      pro  -  vince  stands-Such  a      par  -  eel  of  rogues  in    a        na    -    tion  ! 

FAREWEEL  to  a'  our  Scottish  fame, 

Fareweel  our  ancient  glory ; 
Fareweel  even  to  the  Scottish  name, 

Sae  fam'd  in  martial  story ! 
Now  Sark  rins  over  Solway  sands, 

An'  Tweed  rins  to  the  ocean, 
To  mark  where  England's  province  stands — 

Such  a  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation  ! 

What  force  or  guile  could  not  subdue 

Thro1  many  warlike  ages, 
Is  wrought  now  by  a  coward  few 

For  hireling  traitors'  wages. 
The  English  steel  we  could  disdain, 

Secure  in  valour's  station  : 
But  English  gold  has  been  our  bane  — 

Such  a  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation ! 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


243 


O,  would,  or  I  had  seen  the  day 

That  treason  thus  could  sell  us, 
My  auld  grey  head  had  lien  in  clay 

Wf  Bruce  and  loyal  Wallace! 
But  pith  and  power,  till  my  last  hour 

I'll  mak  this  declaration  : — 
'  We're  bought  and  sold  for  English  gold 

Such  a  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation  ! 


No.  265.    The  Thames  flows  proudly  to  the  sea. 

Tune  :  Robie  donna  gorach.         Scots  Musical  Museum ,  1790,  No.  257. 


Slow 


5 


^ 


The   Thames    flows     proud 


the       sea,      Where       roy    - 


ci    -    ties       state    -    ly      stand ;     But      sweet    -    er        flows    the 


Nith         to        me,  Where    Cum  -   mins     anqe        had       high      com-mand. 

THE  Thames  flows  proudly  to  the  sea, 

Where  royal  cities  stately  stand  ; 
But  sweeter  flows  the  Nith  to  me, 

Where  Cummins  ance  had  high  command. 

When  shall  I  see  that  honour'd  land, 
That  winding  stream  I  love  so  dear! 

Must  wayward  Fortune's  adverse  hand 
For  ever — ever  keep  me  here? 

How  lovely,  Nith,  thy  fruitful  vales, 

Where  bounding  hawthorns  gaily  bloom, 

And  sweetly  spread  thy  sloping  dales, 
Where  lambkins  wanton  thro'  the  broom ! 

Tho'  wandering  now  must  be  my  doom 
Far  from  thy  bonie  banks  and  braes, 

May  there  my  latest  hours  consume 
Amang  the  friends  of  early  days ! 


244 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  266.    When  wild  wars  deadly  blast  was  blawn. 

Tune  :  The  mill,  mill  O.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  242. 

tr 


When  wild     war's   dead-ly      blast     was  blawn,  And    gen -tie     peace 

tr 


re  -  turn  -  ing,    Wi'        monie        a     sweet  babe      fa    -    ther  -  less     And 


monie     a       wi    -    dow     mourn-ing,          I         left      the    lines  and    tent  - 


ed     field,  Where  lang     I'd        been         a       lod  -  ger,      My      hum   -   bit 


knap  -  sack       a'         my  wealth,      A      poor  and    hon   -    est  sod  -  ger. 

WHEN  wild  war's  deadly  blast  was  blawn, 

And  gentle  peace  returning, 
Wi'  monie  a  sweet  babe  fatherless 

And  monie  a  widow  mourning, 
I  left  the  lines  and  tented  field, 

Where  lang  I'd  been  a  lodger, 
My  humble  knapsack  a'  my  wealth, 

A  poor  and  honest  sodger. 

A  leal,  light  heart  was  in  my  breast, 

My  hand  unstain'd  wi'  plunder ; 
And  for  fair  Scotia,  hame  again, 

I  cheery  on  did  wander: 
I  thought  upon  the  banks  o'  Coil, 

I  thought  upon  my  Nancy, 
And  ay  I  mind't  the  witching  smile 

That  caught  my  youthful  fancy. 

At  length  I  reach'd  the  bonie  glen, 

Where  early  life  I  sported ; 
I  pass'd  the  mill  and  trysting  thorn, 

Where  Nancy  aft  I  courted. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


245 


Wha  spied  I  but  my  ain  dear  maid, 
Down  by  her  mother's  dwelling, 

And  turn'd  me  round  to  hide  the  flood 
That  in  my  een  was  swelling ! 

Wi'  alter'd  voice,  quoth  I : — '  Sweet  lass, 

Sweet  as  yon  hawthorn's  blossom, 
O,  happy,  happy  may  he  be, 

That 's  dearest  to  thy  bosom ! 
My  purse  is  light,  I've  far  to  gang, 

And  fain  wad  be  thy  lodger ; 
I've  served  my  king  and  country  lang — 

Take  pity  on  a  sodger.' 

Sae  wistfully  she  gazed  on  me, 

And  lovelier  was  than  ever: 
Quo'  she: — 'A  sodger  anee  I  lo'ed, 

Forget  him  shall  I  never  : 
Our  humble  cot,  and  hamely  fare, 

Ye  freely  shall  partake  it; 
That  gallant  badge — the  dear  cockade — 

Ye're  welcome  for  the  sake  o't.' 

She  gaz'd,  she  redden'd  like  a  rose, 

Syne,  pale  like  onie  lily, 
She  sank  within  my  arms,  and  cried  : — 

'  Art  thou  my  ain  dear  Willie  ? ' 
'  By  Him  who  made  yon  sun  and  sky, 

By  whom  true  love 's  regarded, 
I  am  the  man !    and  thus  may  still 

True  lovers  be  rewarded ! 

'The  wars  are  o'er,  and  I'm  come  hame 

And  find  thee  still  true-hearted ; 
Tho'  poor  in  gear,  we're  rich  in  love, 

And  mair,  we'se  ne'er  be  parted.' 
Quo*  she  : — '  My  grandsire  left  me  gowd, 

A  mailen  plenish'd  fairly ; 
And  come,  my  faithfu'  sodger  lad, 

Thou'rt  welcome  to  it  dearly ! ' 

For  gold  the  merchant  ploughs  the  main, 

The  farmer  ploughs  the  manor ; 
But  glory  is  the  sodger's  prize, 

The  sodger's  wealth  is  honor : 
The  brave  poor  sodger  ne'er  despise, 

Nor  count  him  as  a  stranger; 
Remember  he's  his  country's  stay 

In  day  and  hour  of  danger. 


246 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  267.    There  was  Jive  carlins  in  the  South. 

Tune  :  Chevy  chase.       McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  p.  108  (adapted). 

tr 


There    was  five    car  -  lins       in    the  South,  They  fell     up  -  on       a      scheme 

tr 


To     send       a      lad      to      Lon-don  Town  To    bring  them    ti  -  dings    hame. 


THERE  was  five  carlins  in  the  South, 

They  fell  upon  a  scheme 
To  send  a  lad  to  London  Town 

To  bring  them  tidings  hame  : 

Not  only  bring  them  tidings  hame, 
But  do  their  errands  there  ; 

And  aiblins  gowd  and  honor  baith 
Might  be  that  laddie's  share. 

There  was  Maggie  by  the  banks  o' 
Nith, 

A  dame  wi'  pride  eneugh ; 
And  Marjory  o'  the  monie  Lochs, 

A  carlin  auld  and  teugh  : 

And  Blinkin  Bess  of  Annandale, 
That  dwelt  near  Solway-side  ; 

And  Whisky  Jean,  that  took  her  gill 
In  Galloway  sae  wide ; 

And  Black  Joan  frae  Crichton  Peel, 

O'  gipsy  kith  an'  kin — 
Five  wighter  carlins  were  na  found 

The  South  countrie  within. 

To  send  a  lad  to  London  Town 

They  met  upon  a  day  ; 
And  monie  a  knight  and  mdnie  a  laird 

This  errand  fain  wad  gae. 

O,  monie  a  knight  and  monie  a  laird 
This  errand  fain  wad  gae ; 

But    nae    ane    could    their    fancy 

please, 
O,  ne'er  a  ane  but  twae. 


The  first  ane  was  a  belted  knight, 

Bred  of  a  Border  band  ; 
And  he  wad  gae  to  London  Town, 

Might  nae  man  him  withstand  ; 

And  he  wad  do  their  errands  weel, 

And  meikle  he  wad  say ; 
And  ilka  ane  at  London  court 

Wad  bid  to  him  gude-day. 

Then  neist  cam  in,  a  soger  boy, 
And  spak  wi'  modest  grace  ; 

And  he  wad  gae  to  London  Town, 
If  sae  their  pleasure  was. 

He  wadna  hecht  them  courtly  gifts, 
Nor  meikle  speech  pretend  ; 

But  he  wad  hecht  an  honest  heart 
Wad  ne'er  desert  his  friend. 

Now,    wham  to  chuse   and  wham 
refuse 

At  strife  thir  carlins  fell ; 
For  some  had  gentlefolks  to  please, 

And  some  wad  please  themsel. 

Then  out  spak  mim-mou'd  Mego'Nith, 
And  she  spak  up  wi'  pride, 

And  she  wad  send  the  Soger  lad, 
Whatever  might  betide. 

For  the  auld  gudeman  o'  London 
court 

She  didna  care  a  pin  ; 
But  she  wad  send  the  Soger  lad 

To  greet  his  eldest  son. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


247 


Then  up  sprang  Bess  o'  Annandale, 
And  a  deadly  aith  she 's  ta'en, 

That  she  wad  vote  the  Border  knight, 
Tho'  she  should  vote  her  lane. 

•  For  far-off  fowls  hae  feathers  fair, 
And  fools  o'  change  are  fain ; 

But  I  hae  tried  the  Border  knight, 
And  I'll  try  him  yet  again. 

Then  Whisky  Jean  spak  owre  her 
drink  : 

'  Ye  weel  ken,  kimmers  a'. 
The  auld  gudeman  o'  London  court, 

His  back's  been  at  the  wa' : 

'And  monie  a  friend  that  kiss'd  his 

caup 

Is  now  a  fremit  wight ; 
But  it's   ne'er  be   sae  wi'  Whisky 

Jean  — 
I'll  send  the  Border  knight.' 


Says  Black  Joan  frae  Crichton  Peel, 
A  carlin  stoor  and  grim  : — 

'The  auld  gudeman,  or  the  young 

gudeman, 
For  me  may  sink  or  swim  ; 

'  For  fools  will  prate  o'  right  or  wrang, 
While  knaves  laugh  them  to  scorn ; 

But  the  Soger's  friends  hae  blawn 

the  best, 
So  he  shall  bear  the  horn/ 

Then  slow  raise  Marjory  o'the  Lochs, 
And  wrinkled  was  her  brow, 

Her  ancient  weed  was  russet  grey, 
Her  auld  Scots  bluid  was  true  ; — 

1  There 's  some  great  folk  set  light 
by  me, 

I  set  as  light  by  them  ; — 
But  I  will  send  to  London  Town 

Wham  I  like  best  at  hame.' 


Sae  how  this  sturt  and  strife  may  end, 

Nae  mortal  wight  can  tell: 
God  grant  the  king,  and  ilka  man, 

May  look  weel  to  himsel ! 


No.  268.    You're  welcome  to  despots,  Dumourier  ? 

Tune  :  Robin  Adair  (see  No.  45). 

YOU'RE  welcome  to  despots,  Dumourier  ; 
You're  welcome  to  despots,  Dumourier; 

How  does  Dampiere  do? 

Ay,  and  Bournonville  too  ? 
Why  did  they  not  come  along  with  you,   Dumourier  ? 

I  will  fight  France  with  you,  Dumourier ; 
I  will  fight  France  with  you,  Dumourier ; 

I  will  fight  France  with  you, 

I  will  take  my  chance  with  you, 
By  my  soul,  I'll  dance  with  you,  Dumourier ! 

Then  let  us  fight  about,  Dumourier ; 
Then  let  us  fight  about,   Dumourier  ; 

Then  let  us  fight  about, 

Till  Freedom's  spark  be  out, 
Then  we'll  be  damn'd,  no  doubt,  Dumourier. 


248 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  269.    When  Guilford  good  our  pilot  stood. 

Tune  :  The  black  watch.         McGlashan's  Strathspey  Reels,  1780,  p.  6. 


tr 


When  Guilford  good  our   pi  -  lot  stood,  An1     did    our  hel-lim  thraw,  man,  Ae 
tr 


night,  at     tea,     be  -  gan     a     plea,  With  -  in       A  -  mer  -  i  -  ca,  man  :  Then 


up     they  gat    the  mask -in -pat,  And     in      the    sea     did     jaw,  man;  An1 

ir 


did    nae     less,      in     full     Con  -  gress,  Than  quite    re-fuse     our  law,    man. 

WHEN  Guilford  good  our  pilot  stood, 

An'  did  our  hellim  thraw,  man, 
Ae  night,  at  tea,  began  a  plea. 

Within  America,  man  : 
Then  up  they  gat  the  maskin-pat, 

And  in  the  sea  did  jaw,  man  ; 
An'  did  nae  less,  in  full  Congress, 

Than  quite  refuse  our  law,  man. 

Then  thro'  the  lakes  Montgomery  takes, 

I  wat  he  wasna  slaw,  man ; 
Down  Lowrie's  burn  he  took  a  turn, 

And  Carleton  did  ca',  man : 
But  yet,  whatreck,  he  at  Quebec, 

Montgomery-like  did  fa',  man : 
Wi'  sword  in  hand,  before  his  band, 

Amang  his  en'mies,  a',  man. 

Poor  Tammy  Gage  within  a  cage 

Was  kept  at  Boston-ha',  man  ; 
Till  Willie  Howe  took  o'er  the  knowe 

For  Philadelphia,  man : 
Wi'  sword  an'  gun  he  thought  a  sin 

Guid  Christian  bluid  to  draw,  man; 
But  at  New  York,  wi'  knife  an'  fork, 

Sir-Loin  he  hacked  sma',  man. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


249 


Burgoyne  gaed  up,  like  spur  an'  whip, 

Till  Fraser  brave  did  fa',  man  ; 
Then  lost  his  way,  ae  misty  day, 

In  Saratoga  shaw,  man. 
Cornwallis  fought  as  lang's  he  dought, 

An'  did  the  buckskins  claw,  man  ; 
But  Clinton's  glaive  frae  rust  to  save, 

He  hung  it  to  the  wa',  man. 

Then  Montague,  and  Guilford  too, 

Began  to  fear  a  fa',  man  ; 
And  Sackville  doure,  wha  stood  the  stoure, 

The  German  chief  to  thraw,  man  : 
For  Paddy  Burke,  like  onie  Turk, 

Nae  mercy  had  at  a',  man  ; 
An'  Charlie  Fox  threw  by  the  box, 

An'  lows'd  his  tinkler  jaw,  man. 

Then  Rockingham  took  up  the  game, 

Till  death  did  on  him  ca',  man; 
When  Shelburne  meek  held  up  his  cheek, 

Conform  to  gospel  law,  man  ; 
Saint  Stephen's  boys,  wi'  jarring  noise, 

They  did  his  measures  thraw,  man  ; 
For  North  an'  Fox  united  stocks, 

An'  bore  him  to  the  wa',  man. 

Then  clubs  an'  hearts  were  Charlie's  cartes  ; 

He  swept  the  stakes  awa',  man, 
Till  the  diamond's  ace,  of  Indian  race, 

Led  him  a  sair  faux  pas,  man  ; 
The  Saxon  lads,  wi'  loud  placads, 

On  Chatham's  boy  did  ca',  man  ; 
An'  Scotland  drew  her  pipe  an'  blew : 

'  Up,  Willie,  waur  them  a',  man  ! ' 

Behind  the  throne  then  Granville  's  gone, 

A  secret  word  or  twa,  man  ; 
While  slee  Dundas  arous'd  the  class 

Be-north  the  Roman  wa',  man  : 
And  Chatham's  wraith,  in  heav'nly  graith 

(Inspired  bardies  saw,  man), 
Wi'  kindling  eyes  cried,   '  Willie,  rise  ! 

Would  I  hae  fear'd  them  a',  man?' 

But,  word  an'  blow,  North,  Fox,  and  Co. 

Gowff'd  Willie  like  a  ba',  man, 
Till  Suthron  raise,  an'  coost  their  claes 

Behind  him  in  a  raw,  man  ; 
An'  Caledon  threw  by  the  drone, 

An'  did  her  whittle  draw,  man  ; 
An'  swoor  fu'  rude,  thro'  dirt  and  bluid, 

To  make  it  guid  in  law,  man. 


25° 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  270.   Fy,  let  us  a   to  Kirkcudbright. 

Tune  :  Fy,  let  us  a1  to  the  bridal.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  36. 
Briskly 


Fy,    let   us    a'    to  Kirkcudbright,  For  there  will  be  bick-er- in  there;  For 


Murray's  light  horse  are  to    mus-ter,  An'  O,  how   the    he-roes  will  swear !  And 


there  will  be  Mur-ray,  com-man-der,    An'  Gordon  the    bat  -  tie    to  win ;  Like 


brothers  they'll  stan'  by  each  o  -  ther,    Sae    knit      io     al  -  li  -  ance  and    kin. 

FY,  let  us  a'  to  Kirkcudbright, 

For  there  will  be  bickerin  there ; 
For  Murray's  light  horse  are  to  muster, 

An'  O,  how  the  heroes  will  swear ! 
And  there  will  be  Murray,  commander, 

An'  Gordon  the  battle  to  win; 
Like  brothers  they'll  stan'  by  each  other, 

Sae  knit  in  alliance  and  kin. 

And  there  will  be  black-nebbit  Johnie, 

The  tongue  o'  the  trump  to  them  a' : 
An'  he  get  na  Hell  for  his  haddin, 

The  deil  gets  nae  justice  awa ! 
And  there  will  be  Kempleton's  birkie, 

A  boy  no  sae  black  at  the  bane ; 
But  as  to  his  fine  nabob  fortune, — 

We'll  e'en  let  the  subject  alane! 

And  there  will  be  Wigton's  new  Sheriff; 

Dame  Justice  fu'  brawly  has  sped ; 
She 's  gotten  the  heart  of  a  Bushby, 

But  Lord!   what's  become  o'  the  head? 
And  there  will  be  Cardoness,  Esquire, 

Sae  mighty  in  Cardoness'  eyes ; 
A  wight  that  will  weather  damnation, 

For  the  devil  the  prey  would  despise. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


And  there  will  be  Douglasses  doughty, 

New  christening  towns  far  and  near ; 
Abjuring  their  democrat  doings 

By  kissing  the  doup  of  a  Peer : 
And  there  will  be  folk  frae  Saint  Mary's, 

A  house  o'  great  merit  and  note  ; 
The  deil  ane  but  honors  them  highly — 

The  deil  ane  will  gie  them  his  vote! 

And  there  will  be  Kenmure  sae  gen'rous 

Whose  honor  is  proof  to  the  storm, 
To  save  them  from  stark  reprobation. 

He  lent  them  his  name  in  the  firm  : 
And  there  will  be  lads  o'  the  gospel : 

Muirhead,  wha's  as  gude  as  he's  true; 
And  there  will  be  Buittle's  apostle, 

Wha  's  mair  o'  the  black  than  the  blue ! 

And  there  will  be  Logan's  M°Dowall, — 

Sculdudd'ry  an*  he  will  be  there, 
An'  also  the  Wild  Scot  o'  Galloway, 

Sogering,  gunpowder  Blair ! 
But  we  winna  mention  Redcastle, 

The  body — e'en  let  him  escape ! 
He'd  venture  the  gallows  for  siller, 

An  'twere  na  the  cost  o'  the  rape  ! 

But  where  is  the  Doggerbank  hero, 

That  made  '  Hogan-Mogan '  to  Skulk? 
Poor  Keith's  gane  to  hell  to  be  fuel, 

The  auld  rotten  wreck  of  a  hulk. 
And  where  is  our  King's  Lord  Lieutenant, 

Sae  fam'd  for  his  gratefu'  return? 
The  birkie  is  gettin'  his  Questions 

To  say  in  St.  Stephen's  the  morn  1 

But  mark  ye  there's  trusty  Kerroughtree, 

Whose  honor  was  ever  his  law ; 
If  the  virtues  were  pack'd  in  a  parcel, 

His  worth  might  be  sample  for  a' ; 
And  strang  an'  respectfu  's  his  backing, 

The  maist  o'  the  lairds  wi'  him  stand  ; 
Nae  gipsy-like  nominal  barons 

Whase  property's  paper — not  land. 

And  there  frae  the  Niddisdale  borders, 
The  Maxwells  will  gather  in  droves, 

leugh  Jockie,  staunch  Geordie  an'  Wattie, 
That  girns  for  the  fishes  and  loaves; 


252 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


And  there  will  be  Heron,  the  Major 
Wha'll  ne'er  be  forgot  in  the  Greys: 

Our  flatt'ry  we'll  keep  for  some  other  : 
Him  only  its  justice  to  praise  ! 

And  there  will  be  maiden  Kilkerran, 

An*  also  Barskimming's  gude  Knight ; 
And  there  will  be  roarin  Birtwhistle, 

Yet  luckily  roars  in  the  right  1 
And  there'll  be  Stamp  Office  Johnnie 

(Tak  tent  how  ye  purchase  a  dram). 
And  there  will  be  gay  Cassencarry 

And  there'll  be  gleg  Colonel  Tarn. 

And  there'll  be  wealthy  young  Richard, 
Dame  Fortune  should  hing  by  the  neck  : 

For  prodigal,  thriftless  bestowing—- 
His merit  had  won  him  respect. 

And  there  will  be  rich  brother  Nabobs, 
(Tho'  nabobs,  yet  men  not  the  first,) 

And  there  will  be  Collieston's  whiskers, 
An'  Quinton — o1  lads  no  the  worst  ! 

Then  hey !   the  chaste  interest  o'  Broughton, 

And  hey !   for  the  blessings  'twill  bring ; 
It  may  send  Balmaghie  to  the  Commons — 

In  Sodom  'twould  make  him  a  king ; 
An'  hey !   for  the  sanctified  Murray, 

Our  land  wha  wi'  chapels  has  stor'd  ; 
He  founder'd  his  horse  among  harlots, 

But  gied  the  auld  naig  to  the  Lord  ! 


No.  271.    O  Logan,  sweetly  didst  thou  glide. 

Tune  :  Logan  Water.         Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  23. 
Slow 


O         Lo  -   gan,    sweet  -  ly        didst      thou    glide  That  day      I 


i 


I£M'- 


— ' 

my        Wil    -    lie's    bride,    And         years         sin  -  syne        hae 


o'er        us      run    Like      Lo   -  gan  to  the     sim  -  mer     sun : 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


253 


But     now  thy  flow  -  ery     banks       ap  -  pear   Like  drum  -  lie      Win  -  ter, 


dark       and   drear,  While         my  dear     lad     maun  face 


his     faes     Far,  far         frae         me  and       Lo    -    gan    braes. 

O  LOGAN,  sweetly  didst  thou  glide 
That  day  I  was  my  Willie's  bride, 
And  years  sinsyne  hae  o'er  us  run 
Like  Logan  to  the  simmer  sun : 
But  now  thy  flowery  banks  appear 
Like  drumlie  Winter,  dark  and  drear, 
While  my  dear  lad  maun  face  his  faes 
Far,  far  frae  me  and  Logan  braes. 

Again  the  merry  month  of  May 

Has  made  our  hills  and  vallies  gay  ; 

The  birds  rejoice  in  leafy  bowers, 

The  bees  hum  round  the  breathing  flowers ; 

Blythe  morning  lifts  his  rosy  eye, 

And  evening's  tears  are  tears  o'  joy  : 

My  soul  delightless  a'  surveys, 

While  Willie's  far  frae  Logan  braes. 

Within  yon  milk-white  hawthorn  bush, 
Amang  her  nestlings  sits  the  thrush  ; 
Her  faithfu'  mate  will  share  her  toil, 
Or  wi'  his  song  her  cares  beguile: 
But  I  wi'  my  sweet  nurslings  here, 
Nae  mate  to  help,  nae  mate  to  cheer, 
Pass  widow'd  nights  and  joyless  days, 
While  Willie's  far  frae  Logan  braes. 

O,  wae  upon  you,  Men  o'  State, 
That  brethren  rouse  in  deadly  hate  ! 
As  ye  make  monie  a  fond  heart  mourn, 
Sae  may  it  on  your  heads  return ! 
Ye  mindna  'mid  your  cruel  joys 
The  widow's  tears,  the  orphan's  cries, 
But  soon  may  peace  bring  happy  days, 
And  Willie  hame  to  Logan  braes! 


254 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  272.    Farewell,  thou  fair  day. 

Tune  :  Oran  an  aoig.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  385. 
Very  slow 


Fare- well,  thou    fair   day,  thou  green  earth,  and  ye    skies,  Now    gay    with 


Fare  -  well,  loves    and    friend-ships,  ye 


dear  ten  -  der   ties — Our     race         of          ex    -    ist  -  ence      is  run  ! 


Thou  grim  King  of  Ter-rors!    thou       life's     gloomy    foe,     Go,    fright -en 


fee? 


the         co  -  ward    and  slave !         Go,    teach  them    to    trem  -  ble,    fell 


PI 


. 
ty  -  rant !       but  know,  No     ter  -  rors      hast    thou     to         the          brave ! 

FAREWELL,  thou  fair  day,  thou  green  earth,  and  ye  skies, 

Now  gay  with  the  broad  setting  sun  ; 
Farewell,  loves  and  friendships,  ye  dear  tender  ties — 

Our  race  of  existence  is  run  ! 
Thou  grim  King  of  Terrors !    thou  life's  gloomy  foe, 

Go,  frighten  the  coward  and  slave ! 
Go,  teach  them  to  tremble,  fell  tyrant!    but  know, 

No  terrors  hast  thou  to  the  brave  ! 

Thou  strik'st  the  dull  peasant— he  sinks  in  the  dark, 

Nor  saves  e'en  the  wreck  of  a  name ! 
Thou  strik'st  the  young  hero— a  glorious  mark; 

He  falls  in  the  blaze  of  his  fame  ! 
In  the  field  of  proud  honor — our  swords  in  our  hands, 

Our  king  and  our  country  to  save, 
While  victory  shines  on  life's  last  ebbing  sands, 

O,  who  would  not  die  with  the  brave  ! 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


255 


No.  273.    Who,  will  buy  my  troggin? 

(The  Trogger.) 
Tune  :  Buy  broom  besoms.         Northumbrian  Minstrelsy,  p.  118. 


Wha    will    buy    my    troggin,       fine      e   -    lee  -  tion  ware,  Brok  -  en    trade 

CHORUS. 


a'       in     high    re  -  pair?    Buy  braw  trog  -  gin    frae   the 


banks     o'     Dee\  Wha      wants     trog  -gin      let       him    come     to       me. 


WHA  will  buy  my  troggin,  fine  election  ware, 
Broken  trade  o'  Broughton,  a'  in  high  repair? 

CHORUS.     Buy  braw  troggin  frae  the  banks  o"1  Dee; 
Wha  wants  troggin  let  him  come  to  me. 

There's  a  noble  Earl's  fame  and  high  renown, 

For  an  auld  sang— it's  thought  the  gudes  were  stown — 

Here's  the  worth  o'  Broughton  in  a  needle's  e'e. 
Here's  a  reputation  tint  by  Balmaghie. 

Here 's  its  stuff  and  lining,  Cardoness's  head — 
Fine  for  a  soger,  a'  the  wale  o'  lead. 

Here's  a  little  wadset, — Buittles  scrap  o'  truth, 
Pawn'd  in  a  gin-shop,  quenching  holy  drouth. 

Here's  an  honest  conscience  might  a  prince  adorn, 
Frae  the  downs  o'  Tinwald  -  so  was  never  worn  ! 

Here's  armorial  bearings  frae  the  manse  o'  Urr: 
The  crest,  a  sour  crab-apple  rotten  at  the  core. 

Here  is  Satan's  picture,  like  a  blizzard  gled 
Pouncing  poor  Redcastle,  sprawlin  like  a  taed. 

Here's  the  font  where  Douglas  stane  and  mortar  names, 
Lately  used  at  Caily  christening  Murray's  crimes. 

Here 's  the  worth  and  wisdom  Collieston  can  boast ; 
By  a  thievish  midge  they  had  been  nearly  lost. 

Here  is  Murray's  fragments  o'  the  ten  commands, 
Gifted  by  black  Jock  to  get  them  aff  his  hands. 

Saw  ye  e'er  sic  troggin?   if  to  buy  ye're  slack, 
Hornie  's  turnin  chapman — he'll  buy  a'  the  pack  ! 


256 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  274.    '  Twas  in  the  seventeen  hunder  year. 

Tune  :  The  children  in  the  wood.         Chappell's  Popular  Music,  p.  201. 


'Twas    in      the  seven-teen  hun  -  der  year  O'   grace,  and  nine- ty      five, 


That  year    I    was     the    wae'-est    man      Of     on  -  ie     man     a    -    live. 


'TWAS  in  the  seventeen  hunder  year 
O'  grace,  and  ninety-five, 

That  year  I  was  the  wae'est  man 
Of  onie  man  alive. 

In    March    the    three-an'-twentieth 
morn. 

The  sun  rase  clear  an'  bright ; 
But  O  !    I  was  a  waefu'  man, 

Ere  to-fa'  o'  the  night. 

Yerl  Galloway  lang  did   rule    this 
land 

Wi'  equal  right  and  fame, 
And  thereto  was  his  kinsman  join'd 

The  Murray's  noble  name. 

Yerl  Galloway's  man  o'  men  was  I, 
And  chief  o'  Broughton's  host ; 

So  twa  blind  beggars,  on  a  string, 
The  faithfu'  tyke  will  trust. 

But  now  Yerl  Galloway's  sceptre 's 
broke, 

And  Broughton's  wi'  the  slain, 
And  I  my  ancient  craft  may  try, 

Sin'  honesty  is  gane. 

'Twas  by  the  banks  o'  bonie  Dee, 
Beside  Kirkcudbright's  towers, 

The  Stewart  and  the  Murray  there 
Did  muster  a'  their  powers. 

Then  Murray  on  the  auld  grey  yaud, 
Wi'  winged  spurs  did  ride  : 

That    auld   grey  yaud  a'    Nidsdale 

rade, 
He  staw  upon  Nidside. 


An'   there    had    na  been   the  Yerl 
himsel, 

O,  there  had  been  nae  play ; 
But  Garlics  was  to  London  gane, 

And  sae  the  kye  might  stray. 

And  there  was  Balmaghie,  I  ween — 
In  front  rank  he  wad  shine  ; 

But  Balmaghie  had  better  been 
Drinkin  Madeira  wine. 

And  frae  Glenkens  cam  to  our  aid 
A  chief  o'  doughty  deed : 

In  case  that  worth  should  wanted  be, 
O'  Kenmure  we  had  need. 

And  by  our  banners  march'd  Muir- 

head, 

And  Buittle  was  na  slack, 
Whase  haly  priesthood  nane  could 

stain, 
For  wha  could  dye  the  black? 

And  there  was  grave    Squire   Car- 
doness, 

Look'd  on  till  a'  was  done  ; 
Sae  in  the  tower  o1  Cardoness 

A  howlet  sits  at  noon. 

And  there  led  I  the  Bushby  clan  : 
My  gamesome  billie,  Will, 

And  my  son  Maitland,  wise  as  brave, 
My  footsteps  follow'd  still. 

The  Douglas  and  the  Heron's  name, 
We  set  nought  to  their  score  ; 

The  Douglas  and  the  Heron's  name, 
Had  felt  our  weight  before. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL 


257 


But  Douglasses  o1  weight  had  we: 

The  pair  o1  lusty  lairds, 
For  building  cot-houses  sae  fam'd, 

And  christenin  kail-yards. 

And  then  Redcastle  drew  his  sword 
That  ne'er  was  stain'd  wi'  gore 


Save  on  a  wand'rer  lame  and  blind. 
To  drive  him  frae  his  door. 

And  last  cam  creepin  Collieston, 
Was  mair  in  fear  than  wrath  ; 

Ae  knave  was  constant  in  his  mind — 
To  keep  that  knave  frae  scaith. 


No.  275.    Wham  will  we  send  to  London  town. 

Tune  :  For  a'  that  (see  No.  252). 

WHAM  will  we  send  to  London  town, 

To  Parliament  and  a'  that? 
Or  wha  in  a'  the  country  round 
The  best  deserves  to  fa'  that? 
For  a'  that,  and  a1  that, 
Thro'  Galloway  and  a'  that, 
Where  is  the  Laird  or  belted  Knight 
That  best  deserves  to  fa'  that? 

Wha  sees  Kerrough tree's  open  yett, 

(And  wha  is't  never  saw  that?) 
Wha  ever  wi'  Kerroughtree  met, 
And  has  a  doubt  of  a*  that? 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that ! 
Here 's  Heron  yet  for  a'  that ! 
The  independent  patriot, 

The  honest  man,  and  a'  that ! 


Tho'  wit  and  worth,  in  either  sex, 

Saint  Mary's  Isle  can  shaw  that, 

Wi'  Dukes  and   Lords    let    Selkirk 

mix, 

And  weel  does  Selkirk  fa*  that. 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 
Here 's  Heron  yet  for  a'  that ! 
The  independent  commoner 
Shall  be  the  man  for  a'  that. 

But  why  should  we  to  Nobles  jouk, 

And  is't  against  the  law,  that? 
For  why,  a  Lord  may  be  a  gowk, 
Wi'  ribban,  star,  and  a'  that. 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 
Here's  Heron  yet  for  a'  that! 
A  Lord  may  be  a  lousy  loun 
Wi'  ribban,  star,  and  a'  that. 


A  beardless  boy  comes  o'er  the  hills 

Wi 's  uncle's  purse  and  a'  that ; 
But  we'll  hae  ane  frae  'mang  oursels, 
A  man  we  ken,  and  a'  that. 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 
Here 's  Heron  yet  for  a'  that ! 
For  we're  na  to  be  bought  and  sold, 
Like  naigs,  and  nowte,  and  a' 
that. 

Then  let  us  drink : — 'the  Stewartry, 
Kerroughtree's  laird,  and  a'  that, 
Our  representative  to  be ' ; 

For  weel  he 's  worthy  a'  that ! 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 
Here's  Heron  yet  for  a'  that! 
A  House  of  Commons  such  as  he, 
They  wad  be  blest  that  saw  that. 


258 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  276.   Dire  was  the  hate  at  old  Harlaw. 

Tune  :   The  Dragon  ofWantley.         Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  iii.  p.  10. 
Spirited 


Dire  was    the    hate  at    old  Har  -  law,  That  Scot  to  Scot  did    car  -  ry; 


And  dire  the  dis-cord  Langside  saw  For  beauteous,  hap-less  Ma  -  ry:       But 


Scot     to  Scot  ne'er  met  so  hot,  Or  were  more  in  fu  -  ry  seen,  sir.  Than 'twixt 


Hal    and  Bob  for  the    fa-mous  job,  Who  should  be  the  Faculty's  Dean,  sir. 


DIRE  was  the  hate  at  old  Harlaw, 

That  Scot  to  Scot  did  carry ; 
And  dire  the  discord  Langside  saw 

For  beauteous,  hapless  Mary : 
But  Scot  to  Scot  ne'er  met  so  hot, 

Or  were  more  in  fury  seen,  sir, 
Than  'twixt  Hal  and   Bob    for    the 
famous  job, 

Who  should  be  the  Faculty's  Dean, 
sir. 

This  Hal,  for  genius,  wit,  and  lore, 

Among  the  first  was  number'd  ; 
But  pious  Bob,  'mid  learning's  store 

Commandment  the  tenth  remem- 

ber'd  : 
Yet  simple  Bob  the  victory  got, 

And  won  his  heart's  desire, 
Which  shows  that  Heaven  can  boil 
the  pot, 

Tho'  the  deil  piss  in  the  fire. 

Squire  Hal,  besides,  had  in  this  case 
Pretensions  rather  brassy  ; 

For  talents,  to  deserve  a  place, 
Are  qualifications  saucy. 


So  their  worships  of  the  Faculty, 
Quite  sick  of  merit's  rudeness, 

Chose  one  who   should  owe  it  all, 

d'ye  see, 
To  their  gratis  grace  and  goodness. 

As  once  on  Pisgah  purg'd  was  the 
sight 

Of  a  son  of  Circumcision, 
So,  may  be,  on  this  Pisgah  height 

Bob's  purblind  mental  vision  ; — 
Nay,  Bobby's  mouth  may  be  open'd  yet, 

Till  for  eloquence  you  hail  him, 
And  swear  that  he  has  the  Angel  met 

That  met  the  ass  of  Balaam. 

In  your  heretic  sins  may  ye  live  and 
die, 

Ye  heretic  eight-and-thirty ! 
But  accept,  ye  sublime  majorit}', 

My  congratulations  hearty ! 
With  your  honors,  as  with  a  certain 
King, 

In  your  servants  this  is  striking, 
The  more  incapacity  they  bring, 

The  more  they're  to  your  liking. 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


259 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


No.  277.    When  first  my  brave  Johnie  lad. 

Tune  :  Cock  up  your *be aver.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  309. 


Brisk 


fe^j-J^  j  rjr.ri=J^ 


When  first  my  brave  John-ie    lad  came  to    this  town,    He    had     a    blue 


bon-net  that    want-ed     the    crown,     But        now         he    has    got  -  ten     a 


hat    and    a       feather  —  Hey,  brave  John ie    lad,    cock  up   your  bea  -  ver  ! 


Cock  up  your   beaver,    and    cock   it     fu'  sprush,  We'll       o   -   ver  the  Bor- 


der      and    gie    them  a  brush  ;  There's  some  -  bo  -  dy  there  we'll  teach  bet  • 


ter     be  -  ha  -  viour— Hey,    brave  Johnie    lad,    cock  up  your  bea  -  ver ! 

[WHEN  first  my  brave  Johnie  lad  came  to  this  town, 
He  had  a  blue  bonnet  that  wanted  the  crown, 
But  now  he  has  gotten  a  hat  and  a  feather — 
Hey,  brave  Johnie  lad,  cock  up  your  beaver  !] 

Cock  up  your  beaver,  and  cock  it  fu'  sprush, 
We'll  over  the  Border  and  gie  them  a  brush  ; 
There's  somebody  there  we'll  teach  better  behaviour — 
Hey,  brave  Johnie  lad,  cock  up  your  beaver  ! 

S  2 


260 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  278.    Our  thrissles  flourish  d  fresh  and  fair. 

Tune:  Awa,  Whigs,  awa  !        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  263. 
Moderate 


CHORUS. 


Whigs^  a    •    wa! 


wa,   Whigs,  a    •    wa/     Ye1  re 
Fine. 


but     a     pack       o1       trai  -  tor  louns}  Ye1  II    do       nae    gude  at         a\ 


bon  -  ie   bloom'd      our  ros    -    es;    But    Whigs       cam        like 


D.  C. 


frost      in  June,      An1  with    -    er'd 


our  pos    -    ies. 


CHORUS.     {Awa,   Whigs,  awa ! 

Awa,  Whigs,  awa  ! 
Yire  but  a  pack  o'  traitor  louns, 
Ye'll  do  nae  gtide  at  a'. 


OUR   thrissles  flourish'd   fresh   and 
fair, 

And  bonie  bloom'd  our  roses  ; 
But  Whigs  cam  like  a  frost  in  June, 

An'  wither'd  a'  our  posies.] 

Our  ancient    crown 's   fa'en  in  the 

dust — 

Deil  blin'  them  wi'  the  stoure  o't, 
And  write  their  names  in  his  black 

beuk, 
Wha  gae  the  Whigs  the  power  o't  ! 


[Our    sad    decay    in    Church    and 
State 

Surpasses  my  descriving  : 
The  Whigs  cam  o'er  us  for  a  curse, 

An'  we  hae  done  wi'  thriving.] 

Grim  Vengeance    lang    has   taen    a 

nap, 

But  we  may  see  him  waukin  ; 
Gude    help    the    day    when     royal 

heads 
Are  hunted  like  a  maukin  ! 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


26l 


No.  279.  Now  Nature  hangs  her  mantle  green. 

Tune  :  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  lament.      Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  404. 

tr 


a Slow  . 


Now    Na  -  ture  hangs  her    man-tie  green  On    eve   -   ry  '  bloom-ing  tree, 


And  spreads  her  sheets  o'    dai   -   sies  white  Out  o'er     the     grassy    lea. 


Now  Nature  hangs  her  mantle  green 

On  every  blooming  tree, 
And  spreads  her    sheets  o'  daisies 
white 

Out  o'er  the  grassy  lea  : 
Now    Phoebus    cheers    the    crystal 
streams, 

And  glads  the  azure  skies  ; 
But  nought  can  glad  the  weary  wight 

That  fast  in  durance  lies. 

Now  laverocks  wake  the  merry  morn, 

Aloft  on  dewy  wing  ; 
The  merle,  in  his  noontide  bow'r, 

Makes  woodland  echoes  ring  ; 
The  mavis  wild  wi'  monie  a  note 

Sings  drowsy  day  to  rest : 
In  love  and  .freedom  they  rejoice, 

Wi'  care  nor  thrall  opprest. 

Now  blooms  the  lily  by  the  bank, 

The  primrose  down  the  brae  ; 
The  hawthorn 's  budding  in  the  glen, 

And  milk-white  is  the  slae  : 
The  meanest  hind  in  fair  Scotland 

May  rove  their  sweets  amang  ; 
But  I,  the  Queen  of  a'  Scotland, 

Maun  lie  in  prison  strang. 

I  was  the  Queen  o'  bonie  France, 
Where  happy  I  hae  been  ; 

Fu'  lightly  rase  I  in  the  morn, 
As  blythe  lay  down  at  e'en  : 

And  I'm  the  sov'reign  of  Scotland, 
And  monie  a  traitor  there ; 


Yet  here  I  lie  in  foreign  bands, 
And  never-ending  care. 

But  as  for  thee,  thou  false  woman, 

My  sister  and  my  fae, 
Grim  Vengeance   yet   shall  whet   a 
sword 

That  thro'  thy  soul  shall  gae  ! 
The  weeping  blood  in  woman's  breast 

Was  never  known  to  thee  ; 
Nor  the  balm  that  draps  on  wounds 
of  woe 

Frae  woman's  pitying  e'e. 

My  son  !  my  son  !  may  kinder  stars 

Upon  thy  fortune  shine  ; 
And  may  those  pleasures   gild   thy 
reign, 

That  ne'er  wad  blink  on  mine  ! 
God  keep  thee  frae  thy  mother's  faes, 

Or  turn  their  hearts  to  thee  : 
And  where  thou  meet'st  thy  mother's 
friend, 

Remember  him  for  me  ! 

O !     soon,    to   me,   may  Summer's 
suns 

Nae  mair  light  up  the  morn  ! 
Nae  mair  to  me  the  Autumn  winds 

Wave  o'er  the  yellow  corn  ! 
And,  in  the  narrow  house  of  death, 

Let  Winter  round  me  rave  ; 
And  the  next  flow'rs  that  deck  the 
Spring 

Bloom  on  my  peaceful  grave. 


262 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  280.     O,  cam  ye  here  the  fight  to  shun  ? 

Tune:  Cameronian  rant.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  282. 
.    Brisk 


'O,  .cam    ye    here  the    fight  to  shun,  Or    herd  the  sheep  wi'    me,  man? 


Or    were   ye     at    the    Sher  -  ra-moor,  Or    did     the  bat -tie     see,     man?1 


'I       saw  the   bat  -  tie    sair  and  teugh,  And  reek  -  in  -  red  ran  monieasheugh; 


My  heart  for  fear  gae  sough  for  sough,  To  hear  the  thuds,  and    see  the  cluds 


.£EE 


O'  clans  frae  woods  in      tar  -  tan  duds.Wha  glaum'd  at  king-doms three,  man.' 


*  O,  CAM  ye  here  the  fight  to  shun, 
Or  herd  the  sheep  wi'  me,  man  ? 
Or  were  ye  at  the  Sherra  moor, 

Or  did  the  battle  see,  man?' 
'  I  saw  the  battle  sair  and  teugh, 
And  reekin-red  ran  monie  a  sheugh  ; 
My  heart  for  fear  gae  sough  for  sough, 
To  hear  the  thuds,  and  see  the  cluds 
O'  clans  frae  woods  in  tartan  duds, 
Wha  glaum'd  at  kingdoms  three,  man. 

'  The  red-coat  lads  wi'  black  cockauds 
To  meet  them  were  na  slaw,  man  ; 

They  rush'd  and  push'd  and  bluid  outgush'd, 
And  monie  a  bouk  did  fa',   man  ; 


VIII.     JACOBITE  263 


The  great  Argyle  led  on  his  files, 
I  wat  they  glanc'd  for  twenty  miles  ; 
They  hough'd  the  clans  like  nine-pin  kyles, 
They  hack'd  and  hash'd,  while  braid-swords  clash'd, 
And  thro'  they  dash'd,  and  hew'd  and  smash'd, 
'Till  fey  men  died  awa',  man. 

<  But  had  ye  seen  the  philabegs 

And  skyrin  tartan  trews,  man, 
When  in  the  teeth  they  daur'd  our  Whigs 

And  covenant  True-blues,  man ! 
In  lines  extended  lang  and  large, 
When  baignets  overpower'd  the  targe, 
And  thousands  hasten'd  to  the  charge, 
Wi'  Highland  wrath  they  frae  the  sheath 
Drew  blades  o3  death,  till  out  o'  breath 

They  fled  like  frighted  dows,  man.' 

'  Oh,  how  deil,  Tarn,  can  that  be  true  ? 

The  chase  gaed  frae  the  North,  man; 
I  saw  mysel,  they  did  pursue 

The  horseman  back  to  Forth,  man; 
And  at  Dunblane,  in  my  ain  sight, 
They  took  the  brig  wi'  a'  their  might, 
And  straught  to  Stirling  wing'd  their  flight ; 
But,  cursed  lot !  the  gates  were  shut ; 
And  monie  a  huntit  poor  red-coat 

For  fear  amaist  did  swarf,  man  !' 

'  My  sister  Kate  cam  up  the  gate 

Wi'  crowdie  unto  me,  man  : 
She  swoor  she  saw  some  rebels  run 

To  Perth  and  to  Dundee,  man  ! 
Their  left-hand  general  had  nae  skill ; 
The  Angus  lads  had  nae  good-will 
That  day  their  neibor's  blude  to  spill ; 
For  fear  by  foes  that  they  should  lose 
Their  cogs  o'  brose,  they  scar'd  at  blows, 

And  hameward  fast  did  flee,  man. 

'  They've  lost  some  gallant  gentlemen, 

Amang  the  Highland  clans,  man  ; 
I  fear  my  Lord  Panmure  is  slain, 

Or  in  his  enemies'  hands,  man  : 
Now  wad  ye  sing  this  double  flight, 
Some  fell  for  wrang,  and  some  for  right, 
But  monie  bade  the  world  gude-night; 
Say,  pell  and  mell,  wi'  muskets1  knell, 
How  Tories  fell,  and  Whigs  to  hell 

Flew  off  in  frighted  bands,  man ! ' 


264  TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 

No.  281.    Ye  Jacobites  by  name. 

Tune  :  Ye  Jacobites  by  name.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  371. 


Ye     Ja  -  co-bites  by  name,  give   an    ear,  give  an    ear!    Ye      Ja  -  co    - 


f=£ 


bites  by  name,  Give  an      ear !         Ye        Ja  -  co-bites  by  name,  Your     fautes 


I     will  pro-claim,  Your      doc-trines   I  maun   blame — You  shall   hear ! 


YE  Jacobites  by  name,  give  an  ear,  give  an  ear ! 
Ye  Jacobites  by  name,  give  an  ear ; 

Ye  Jacobites  by  name, 

Your  fautes  I  will  proclaim, 
Your  doctrines  I  maun  blame — You  shall  hear  ! 

What  is  right,  and  what  is  wrang,  by  the  law,  by  the  law? 
What  is  right,  and  what  is  wrang,  by  the  law? 

What  is  right,  and  what  is  wrang  ? 

A  short  sword  and  a  lang, 
A  weak  arm  and  a  strang  for  to  draw  ! 

What  makes  heroic  strife  famed  afar,  famed  afar  ? 
What  makes  heroic  strife  famed  afar  ? 

What  makes  heroic  strife  ? 

To  whet  th'  assassin's  knife, 
Or  hunt  a  parent's  life  wi1  bluidy  war ! 

Then  let  your  schemes  alone,  in  the  state,  in  the  state ! 
Then  let  your  schemes  alone,  in  the  state  ; 

Then. let  your  schemes  alone, 

Adore  the  rising  sun, 
And  leave  a  man  undone  to  his  fate  ! 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


265 


No.  282.   (9,  Kenmure's  on  and  aw  a,    Willie. 

Tune  :  Kenwiure^s  on  and  aw  a.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  359. 
Sprightly 


O,      Kenmure's  on  and  a  -  wa,  Wil-lie,   O,     Kenmure's  on  and  a  -  wa ; 


An1    Kenmure's  lord's  the     bravest    lord  That    ev  -  er  Gal-lo-way    saw. 


Sue  -  cess    to    Kenmure's  band,  Wil-lie,  Sue-cess    to     Kenmure's   band ! 


There's  no    )    heart    that   fears     a    Whig,  That  rides   by    Kenmure's  hand. 

O,  KENMURE  's  on  and  awa,  Willie, 

O,  Kenmure's  on  and  awa; 
An'  Kenmure's  lord's  the  bravest  lord 

That  ever  Galloway  saw. 

Success  to  Kenmure's  band,  Willie, 

Success  to  Kenmure's  band  ! 
There's  no  a  heart  that  fears  a  Whig, 

That  rides  by  Kenmure's  hand. 

Here 's  Kenmure's  health  in  wine,  Willie, 
Here  's  Kenmure's  health  in  wine  ! 

There  ne'er  was  a  coward  o'  Kenmure's  blude 
Nor  yet  o'  Gordon's  line. 

O,  Kenmure's  lads  are  men,  Willie, 

O,  Kenmure's  lads  are  men  ! 
Their  hearts  and  swords  are  metal  true, 

And  that  their  faes  shall  ken. 

They'll  live  or  die  wi'  fame,  Willie, 

They'll  live  or  die  wi'  fame  !• 
But  soon  wi'  sounding  victorie 

May  Kenmure's  lord  come  hame. 

Here's  him  that's  far  awa,  Willie, 

Here  's  him  that 's  far  awa  ! 
And  here  's  the  flower  that  I  lo'e  best — 

The  rose  that 's  like  the  snaw ! 


266 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  283.    When  we  gaed  to  the  braes  d  Mar. 

Tune:  Up,  and  warn  a1,  Willie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  188. 
Quickly 


CHORUS.     Up,    and  warn    a\  Wil -lie,  Warn,  warn     a1;     To   hear  my  can  -  ty 

Fine. 
VT\ 


high  -  land    sang   Re  -  late  the  thing    I   saw,      Wil  -  lie.     When  we  gaed 


to      the    braes  o'     Mar,    And  to      the    wea  -  pon  -  shaw,  Wil  -  lie ;       Wi' 

D.  C. 
/TN 


true    de  -  sign     to    serve  the    king  And  ban  -  ish  Whigs   a  -  wa,  Wil  -  lie. 

CHORUS.     Up,  and  ^varn  a\  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a' ; 

To  hear  my  canty  Highland  sang 
Relate  the  thing  I  saw,  Willie. 

When  we  gaed  to  the  braes  o'  Mar, 
And  to  the  weapon-shaw,  Willie  ; 
Wi'  true  design  to  serve  the  king 
And  banish  Whigs  awa,  Willie. 
Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a' ; 

For  lords  and  lairds  came  there  bedeen, 
And  wow !  but  they  were  braw,  Willie. 

But  when  the  standard  was  set  up, 

Right  fierce  the  wind  did  blaw,  Willie, 
The  royal  nit  upon  the  tap 

Down  to  the  ground  did  fa',  Willie. 
Up,  and  warn  a1,  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a'  ; 

Then  second-sighted  Sandie  said 
We'd  do  nae  gude  at  a',  Willie. 

But  when  the  army  join'd  at  Perth, 

The  bravest  e'er  ye  saw,  Willie, 
We  didna  doubt  the  rogues  to  rout, 

Restore  our  king  and  a'.  Willie. 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


267 


Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a' ; 

The  pipers  play'd  frae  right  to  left 
O  whirry  Whigs  awa,  Willie. 

But  when  we  march'd  to  Sherramuir 
And  there  the  rebels  saw,  Willie  ; 
Brave  Argyle  attack'd  our  right, 
Our  flank,  and  front  and  a',  Willie  ; 
Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a' ; 
Traitor  Huntly  soon  gave  way, 
Seaforth,  St.  Clair  and  a1,   Willie. 

But  brave  Glengary  on  our  right 

The  rebels'  left  did  claw,  Willie  ; 
He  there  the  greatest  slaughter  made 
That  ever  Donald  saw,  Willie ; 
Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a', 

And  Whittam  fyled  his  breeks  for  fear, 
And  fast  did  rin  awa,  Willie. 

For  he  ca'd  us  a  Highland  mob, 

And  soon  he'd  slay  us  a',  Willie  ; 
But  we  chas'd  him  back  to  Stirling  brig — 
Dragoons,  and  foot,  and  a',  Willie. 
Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a'; 
At  length  we  rallied  on  a  hill, 
And  briskly  up  did  draw,  Willie. 

But  when  Argyle  did  view  our  line 

And  them  in  order  saw,  Willie, 
He  straight  gaed  to  Dumblane  again, 
And  back  his  left  did  draw,  Willie. 
Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a* ; 

Then  we  to  Auchterairder  march'd 
To  wait  a  better  fa',  Willie. 

Now  if  ye  spier  wha  wan  the  day, 
I've  tell'd  you  what  I  saw,  Willie, 
We  baith  did  fight,  and  baith  did  beat, 
And  baith  did  rin  awa,  Willie. 
Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie, 

Warn,  warn  a' ; 
For  second-sighted  Sandie  said 
We'd  do  nae  gude  at  a',  Willie. 


268 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  284.    Here's  a  health  to  them  that's  awa. 

Tune  :  Here's  a  health  to  them  that  '5  awa.       Scots  Mus.  Mus.,  1796,  No.  412. 


Here's  a    health    to  them  that's  a   -  wa,  Here's  a      health    to  them  that's  a    - 


wa !       And       wha  win  -  na       wish    guid    luck    to   our  cause,  May    nev  -  er 


XL         V 

r    c    r  _i 

fP5    K 

MM 

-h—  N—  P 

—  f  —  H  — 

-N 

-J    J    J    * 

-J!_J  P=3 

•-  '     —  H 

if—*— 

guid 
o 

-^-Tib-^ 

uck  be  their 

>^--- 

fa*  1         ! 

^ 

t's 

J 

guid    to    be    me 

r* 

0p_i_ 
r  -  ry  an  d  wis 

-*Ln 

e,                It's 

y 

S      S      h 

r        (• 

• 

1      I         5» 

S     K 

XL 

fs     R 

c 

B 

"  n            * 

0     0     * 

/     k- 

i        1*1' 
J  .  , 

s4-J     J— 

J      ^-^J. 

gz= 

guid 

to    be     hon 

-  est     and 

t 

rue,                     It 

s    guid      to    . 

—  £— 
jup  -  port  Cal    - 

c 

y 

11* 

V                  f*i 

ivh    p  

—  p—  -  —  *  1 

»    F  —  • 

r    K  —  P— 

fe     n* 

|             k 

~£/~v  — 
-  e    - 

-y  
do    -  ni  -  a 

—  i  —  ,  — 

s  cause,  Aq( 

1 

-^  J--  *    * 

bide    by     the    bu 

ff     and      the 

bluST 

HERE'S  a  health  to  them  that's  awa, 

Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa  ! 
And  wha  winna  wish  guid  luck  to  our  cause, 

May  never  guid  luck  be  their  fa' ! 

It's  guid  to  be  merry  and  wise, 

It's  guid  to  be  honest  and  true, 
It's  guid  to  support  Caledonia's  cause 

And  bide  by  the  buff  and  the  blue. 

Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa, 

Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa ! 
Here  's  a  health  to  Charlie,  the  chief  o'  the  clan, 

Altho'  that  his  band  be  but  sma1. 

May  Liberty  meet  wi'  success  ! 

May  Prudence  protect  her  frae  evil ! 
May  tyrants  and  tyranny  tine  i'  the  mist, 

And  wander  their  way  to  the  devil ! 

Here  's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa, 

Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa  ! 
Here's  a  health  to  Tammie,  the  Norlan*  laddie, 

That  lives  at  the  lug  o'  the  law  ! 

Here's  freedom  to  them  that  wad  read, 

Here 's  freedom  to  them  that  would  write  ! 
There 's  nane  ever  fear'd  that  the  truth  should  be  heard 

But  they  whom  the  truth  would  indite. 


I 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


269 


Here  's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa, 

An*  here 's  to  them  that 's  awa  ! 
Here's  to  Maitland  and  Wycombe  ;  let  wha  does  na  like  'em 

Be  built  in  a  hole  in  the  wa' ! 

Here's  timmer  that's  red  at  the  heart, 

Here  's  fruit  that  is  sound  at  the  core, 
And  may  he  that  wad  turn  the  buff  and  blue  coat 

Be  turn'd  to  the  back  o'  the  door  ! 

Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa, 

Here 's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa ! 
Here's  Chieftain  M'Leod,  a  chieftain  worth  gowd, 

Tho'  bred  amang  mountains  o'  snaw ! 

Here 's  friends  on  baith  sides  o'  the  Firth, 

And  friends  on  baith  sides  o'.the  Tweed, 
And  wha  wad  betray  old  Albion's  right, 

May  they  never  eat  of  her  bread  ! 


No.  285.    Wha  in  a  brulzie. 


Tune  :  The  Killogie.          Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  475. 
_    u,    Moderate  time 

1  (^  — 

—  :  =BP,  T^j 

3  —  ?— 

0  — 

((T)       TL-j.  J- 

—  i  J  —  I— 

—  1  —  H-J-^- 

—  *-==P^-j  — 

CHORUS.  Ban-nocks     o1 

bear       mealt      Ban  -  nocks        o*             bar     -     ley  ; 
Fine. 

-  .P  '-triii                   i 

^ 

»      I 

-A    #  —  i  i  \- 

—\  —  1  —  F^t- 

—  i  «q  —  f    - 

_j    p  —  f 

— 

*    ' 

2  . 

L^jf 

—  —*'  I  r 

—  1 

High-land-marf s      Ban  -  nocks 


bar     -     ley/ 


**—*- 


Wha    in       a 


brul-zie  Will    first   cry      a          par    -    ley?    Nev   -  er 

D.  C. 


the          lads        Wi' 


the         ban   -   nocks 


bar 


ley! 


CHORUS.     Bannocks  o'  bear  meal, 
Bannocks  61  barley; 
Here^s  to  the  Highlandmari1  s 
Bannocks  o"1  barley! 


WHA  in  a  brulzie 

Will  first  cry  a  parley? 
Never  the  lads 

Wi'  the  bannocks  o'  barley. 


Wha,  in  his  wae-days. 

Were  loyal  to  Charlie? 
Wha  but  the  lads 

Wi'  the  bannocks  o'  barley. 


270 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  286.    The  small  birds  rejoice. 

McGlashan's  Reels,  1786,  p.  36. 


Tune  :  Captain  O'Kane. 
Slow 


The      small  birds  re- joice    in    the      green    leaves     re  -  turn-ing,  The 


mur-mur-ing    stream  -let      winds    clear  thro'  the    vale,       The      prim-  ro 


ses    blow     in      the        dews       of         the     morn  -  ing,  And    wild    scatter'd 


cow  -   slips       be  -    deck   the  green  dale :        But        what    can    give  plea  - 


£3E3E£^E££^E&e=&t±f£ 


sure,  or    what  can  seem  fair,  When  the  lin  -  ger  -  ing  mo-ments  are   number'd 

t—^-fi^ 


by    care  ?    No         birds  sweet  -  ly    sing  -  ing,  nor        flow'rs        gai    -    ly 


spring-ing,    Can  soothe  the     sad       bo    -    som       of          joy  -  less    des  -  pair. 

THE  small  birds  rejoice  in  the  green  leaves  returning, 
The  murmuring  streamlet  winds  clear  thro'  the  vale, 

The  primroses  blow  in  the  dews  of  the  morning, 
And  wild  scatter'd  cowslips  bedeck  the  green  dale: 

But  what  can  give  pleasure,  or  what  can  seem  fair, 

When  the  lingering  moments  are  number'd  by  care? 
No  birds  sweetly  singing,  nor  flow'rs  gaily  springing, 

Can  soothe  the  sad  bosom  of  joyless  despair. 

The  deed  that  I  dared,  could  it  merit  their  malice, 
A  king  and  a  father  to  place  on  his  throne? 

His  right  are  these  hills,  and  his  right  are  those  valleys, 
Where  the  wild  beasts  find  shelter,  tho'  I  can  find  none! 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


27I 


But  'tis  not  my  suff'rings  thus  wretched,  forlorn — 
My  brave  gallant  friends,  'tis  your  ruin  I  mourn  ! 

Your  faith  prov'd  so  loyal  in  hot-bloody  trial, 
Alas !  can  I  make  it  no  better  return  ? 


No.  287.   My  love  was  born  in  Aberdeen. 

Tune  :   The  White  Cockade.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  272. 
Merrily 


My    love    was    born 


Ab  -  er  -  deen,    The    bon  -  iest       lad 


that       e'er     was      seen ;      But        now     he      makes      our        hearts    fu1 


id,—    He        takes          the          field  wi'       his     White  Cock  -  ade. 


CHORUS.    O,        he's      a     rant  -  ing,   rov  -  ing    lad!     He         is  a       brisk 


bon  -  ie       lad!       Se     -     tide    what 


may, 


will 


be   .    wed,    And      fol   -    low    the    boy        w?    the   White  Cock  •  ade. 


MY  love  was  born  in  Aberdeen, 
The  boniest  lad  that  e'er  was  seen  ; 
But  now  he  makes  our  hearts  fu'  sad, — 
He  takes  the  field  wi'  his  White  Cockade. 

CHORUS.    O,  he's  a  ranting,  roving  lad! 
He  is  a  brisk  an*  a  bonie  lad! 
Betide  ivhat  may,  I  ivill  be  wed, 
And  follow  the  boy  wV  the  White  Cockade. 

I'll  sell  my  rock,  my  reel,  my  tow, 

My  gude  gray  mare  and  hawkit  cow, 

To  buy  mysel  a  tartan  plaid, 

To  follow  the  boy  wi'  the  White  Cockade. 


272 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  288.    The  noble  Maxwells  and  their  powers. 

Tune  :  Nithsdale's  welcome  hame.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  364. 
Joyous 


The     no- ble  Max -wells    and  their  powers  Are  com  -  ing    o'er    the    Bor    - 


-  der;  And  they'll  gae  big   Ter-rea-gles' towers,  And  set  them     a'      in    or  -  der. 


And  they    de  -  clare  Ter  -  rea  -  gle  's    fair,     For    their    a  -  bode  they     choose 

tr 


it;  There's  no      a  heart     in    a'      the  land  But 's  light  -  er    at     the  news   o't! 


THE  noble  Maxwellsand  theirpowers 

Are  coming  o'er  the  Border ; 
And    they'll    gae    big     Terreagles' 
towers, 

And  set  them  a*  in  order. 
And  they  declare  Terreagle's  fair, 

For  their  abode  they  choose  it ; 
There's  no  a  heart  in  a'  the  land 

But's  lighter  at  the  news  o't! 


Tho*  stars  in  skies  may  disappear, 

And  angry  tempests  gather, 
The  happy  hour  may  soon  be  near 

That  brings  us  pleasant  weather  ; 
The  weary  night  o'  care  and  grief 

May  hae  a  joyfu'  morrow  ; 
So    dawning    day  has   brought    re- 
lief— 

Fareweel  our  night  o'  sorrow ! 


No.  289.    My  Harry  was  a  gallant  gay. 

Tune :  Highlanders  lament.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 790,  No.  209. 


My  Har-ry      was      a   gal-lant  gay,  Fu'  state-ly strade  he  on   the  plain 


But    now   he 's  ban  -  ish'd  far     a-way;  I'll    nev  -  er      see    him  back  a  -  gain. 
CHORUS. 


,     for     him  back   a   •  gain!      O         for    him       back         a   -  gain! 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


273 


/   wad   gie     a1  Knockhaspie1  s  land  For  Highland  Har-ry  back     a  •  gain. 


MY  Harry  was  a  gallant  gay, 
Fu'  stately  strade  he  on  the  plain  ; 

But  now  he  's  banish'd  far  away  ; 
I'll  never  see  him  back  again. 

CHORUS. 

O,  for  him  back  again  ! 
O,for  him  back  again  ! 
I  wad  gie  a1  Knockhnspie1  s  land 
For  Highland  Harry  back  again. 


When    a'    the    lave    gae    to    their 
bed, 

I  wander  dowie  up  the  glen, 
I  set  me  down  and  greet  my  fill, 

And  ay  I  wish  him  back  again. 

O,  were  some  villains  hangit  high, 
And  ilka  body  had  their  ain, 

Then  I  might  see  the  joyfu'  sight, 
My  Highland  Harry  back  again  I 


No.  290.   An  somebody  were  come  again. 

Tune  :  Carl,  an  the  king  come.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  239. 


Slow 
CHORUS.    Carl,    an   the  king  come,   Carl,      an    the  king  ccme,  Thou  shalt  dance, 


tr    Fine. 


and  I   will  sing,      Car/,      an   the  king  come!     An     some  -  bo  -  dy  were 


a  -  gain,   Then    some- bo -dy  maun    cross      the  main,  And  eve  -  ry 

rr\  *  D.C. 


man  shall       hae        his        ain, 

CHORUS. 

Carl,  an  the  king  come, 

Carl,  an  the  king  come, 
Thou  shalt  dance,  and  I  will  sing, 
Carl,  an  the  king  come! 

An  somebody  were  come  again, 
Then  somebody  maun  cross  the  main, 
And  every  man  shall  hae  his  ain, 
Carl,  an  the  king  corne. 


Carl, 


the    king  come. 


I  trow  we  swapped  for  the  worse : 
We  gae  the  boot  and  better  horse, 
And    that    we'll    tell    them    at   the 
cross, 

Carl,  an  the  king  come. 

[Coggie,  an  the  king  come, 
Coggie,  an  the  king  come, 
I'se  be  fou,  and  thou'se  be  toom, 
Coggie,  an  the  king  come.] 


The  music  between  the  asterisks  is  an  8ve  higher  in  the  original. 
T 


274 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  291.    Sir  John  Cope  trode  the  north  right  far. 

Tune:  Johnie  Cope.          Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  234. 
In  moderate  time 


Sir        John  Cope  trode    the         north  right  far,        Yet        ne'er    a 


re      -      bel  he  cam      naur,      Un     -     til         he     land  -  ed 

CHORUS. 


at    Dun -bar      Right        ear  -  ly          in         a  morn  -  ing.         Hey! 


John  -  ie      Cope^     are     ye        wauk    -    ing     yet?     Or         are        ye 


sleep-ing       I          would    -wit;       O,          haste     ye     get      «/,      for    the 


drums      do       beat;      O,        fyel    Cope>    rise       in  the      morn  •  ing. 

SIR  John  Cope  trode  the  north  right  far, 
Yet  ne'er  a  rebel  he  cam  naur, 
Until  he  landed  at  Dunbar 
Right  early  in  a  morning. 

CHORUS.     Hey!  Johnie  Cope,  are  ye  wauking  yet ? 
Or  are  ye  sleeping  I  would  wit ;          . 
O,  haste  ye  get  up,  for  the  drums  do  beat ; 
O  fye  I  Cope,  rise  in  the  morning. 

He  wrote  a  challenge  from  Dunbar, 
•Come  fight  me,  Charlie,  an  ye  daur, 
If  it  be  not  by  the  chance  of  war 
I'll  give  you  a  merry  morning.' 

When  Charlie  look'd  the  letter  upon, 
He  drew  his  sword  the  scabbard  from — 
'So  Heaven  restore  to  me  my  own, 

I'll  meet  you,  Cope,   in  the  morning.' 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


Cope  swore,  with  many  a  bloody  word, 
That  he  would  fight  them  gun  and  sword, 
But  he  fled  frae  his  nest  like  an  ill-scar  d  bird, 

And  Johnie  took  wing  in  the  morning. 
It  was  upon  an  afternoon, 
Sir  Johnie  march'd  to  Preston  town, 
He  says,  'My  lads  come  lean  you  down, 

And  we'll  fight  the  boys  in  the  morning.' 
But  when  he  saw  the  Highland  lads, 
Wi'  tartan   trews  and  white  cockauds, 
Wi'  swords,  and  guns,  and  rungs,  and  gauds — 

0  Johnie,   he  took  wing  in  the  morning. 
On  the  morrow  when  he  did  rise, 

He  looked  between  him  and  the  skies  ; 
He  saw  them  wi'  their  naked  thighs, 

Which  fear'd  him  in  the  morning. 
O,    then  he  flew  into  Dunbar, 
Crying  for  a  man  of  war ; 
He  thought  to  have  passed  for  a  rustic  tar, 

And  gotten  awa  in  the  morning. 
Sir  Johnie  into  Berwick  rade, 
Just'  as  the  devil  had  been  his  guide  ; 
Gien  him  the  warld  he  would  na  stay'd 

To  foughten  the  boys  in  the  morning. 
Says  the  Berwickers  unto  Sir  John  : — 
'O  what's  become  of  all  your  men?' 
'In  faith,'  says  he,  'I  dinna  ken — 

1  left  them  a'  this  morning.' 

Says  Lord  Mark  Car — 'Ye  are  na  blate 
To  bring  us  the  news  o'  your  ain  defeat, 
I  think  you  deserve  the  back  o'  the  gate  ! 
Get  out  o'  my  sight  this  morning.' 


No.  292.    Loud  b law  the  frosty  breezes. 

Tune  :  Morag  (see  No.  98). 


LOUD  blaw  the  frosty  breezes, 
The  snaws  the  mountains  cover; 

Like  winter  on  me  seizes, 

Since  my  young  Highland  Rover 
Far  wanders  nations  over. 

Where'er  he  go,  where'er  he  stray, 
May  Heaven  be  his  warden  ; 

Return  him  safe  to  fair  Strathspey 
And  bonie  Castle -Gordon  ! 


The  trees,  now  naked  groaning, 
Shall  soon  wi'  leaves  be  hinging, 

The  birdies,  dowie  moaning, 
Shall  a'  be  blythely  singing, 
And  every  flower  be  springing. 

Sae  I'll  rejoice  the  lee-lang  day, 
When  (by  his  mighty  warden) 

My  youth's  returned  to  fair  Strathspey 
And  bonie  Castle-Gordon. 


T  2 


276 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  293.    My  heart  is  wae,  and  unco  wae. 

Tune  :  Mary's  dream.         Perth  Musical  Miscellany ',  1786,  p.  96. 

Slow 


My       heart        is       wae,      and          un    -    co        wae,        To        think 


-^-P— 


up    -    on        the          rag    -    ing     sea,      That       roars    be-tween     her 


gar  -  dens       green  An1  the      bon     -     ie     Lass     of     Al   -    ban   -   ie. 


This        love  -  ly   maid 's    of       roy   -   al    blood,    That       rul  -  ed     Al 


bion  s      king    -      doms        three ;     But          O        a  -  las !      for  her 


bonie    face !    They've  wrang'd        the       Lass      of       Al    -    ban   -    ie. 


MY  heart  is  wae,  and  unco  wae, 
To  think  upon  the  raging  sea, 

That    roars  between    her  gardens 

green 
An1  the  bonie  Lass  of  Albania. 

This  lovely  maid  's  of  royal  blood, 
That     ruled    Albion's     kingdoms 

three  ; 

But  O,  alas  !  for  her  bonie  face  ! 
They've    wrang'd     the     Lass     of 
Albanie. 

In  the  rolling  tide  of  spreading  Clyde, 
There  sits  an  isle  of  high  degree, 

And  a  town  of  fame,  whose  princely 

name 
Should  grace  the  Lass  of  Albanie. 


But  there  is  a  youth,  a  witless  youth, 
That    fills    the   place   where    she 

should  be  ; 
We'll  send   him  o'er    to  his  native 

shore, 
And  bring  our  ain  sweet  Albanie. 

Alas  the  da}',  and  woe  ^the  day  ! 

A  false  usurper  wan  the  gree, 
Who  now  commands  the  towers  and 
lands — 

The  royal  right  of  Albanie. 

We'll  daily  pray,  we'll  nightly  pray. 
On  bended  knees  most  fervently, 

The  time  may  come,  with  pipe  and 

drum 
We'll  welcome  home  fair  Albanie. 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


277 


No.  294.    Come  boat  me  oer,  come  row  me  oer. 

Tune  :  Over  the  water  to  Charlie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  187. 
Brisk 


Come      boat     me      o'er,   come       ro\v      me      o'er,  Come      boat      me 


o'er      to    Char -lie,    I'll      gie      John  Ross       a  -  noth-er  baw-bee     To 

CHORUS. 


r-F^: — N * 

EJpgM^ 


boat     me      o'er      to      Char  -   lie.      We'll      o'er     the     wa  -  ter,  we'll 


o'er     the    sea,   We  '//  o'er     the    wa  -  ter    to  Char-lie ;  Come  weal,  come 


woe,  we'll  ga-therand    go^      And     live     and    die       wi'    Char-lie. 


COME  boat  me  o'er,  come  row  me  o'er, 

Come  boat  me  o'er  to  Charlie ; 
I'll  gie  John  Ross  another  bawbee 

To  boat  me  o'er  to  Charlie, 

CHORUS.     We'll  o'er  the  water,  we'll  o'er  the  sea, 

We'll  o'er  the  water  to  Charlie  ; 
Come  weal,  come  woe,  we'll  gather  and  go, 
And  live  and  die  wi'  Charlie. 

I  lo'e  weel  my  Charlie's  name, 

Tho'  some  there  be  abhor  him  ; 
But  O,  to  see  auld  Nick  gaun  hame, 

And  Charlie's  faes  before  him  ! 

I  swear  and  vow  by  moon  and  stars 

And  sun  that  shines  so  early, 
If  I  had  twenty  thousand  lives, 

I'd  die  as  aft  for  Charlie. 


278 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  295.    O,  I  am  come  to  the  low  countrie. 

Tune  :   The  Highland  widow 's  lament.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  498. 
I,  Very  slow  .        . 


I      am  come  to  the    low  countrie—  Och-on,  Och-on,     Och    -    rie !  — 


«)    J*-*b — *-^-*-n 


With  -  out    a    pen  -  ny     in       my    purse  To    buy    a 


meal 


O,  I  am  come  to  the  low  countrie  — 
Ochon,  ochon,  ochrie  !  — 

Without  a  penny  in  my  purse 
To  buy  a  meal  to  me. 

It  wasna  sae  in  the  Highland  hills — 
Ochon,  ochon,  ochrie  ! — 

Nae  woman  in  the  country  wide 
Sae  happy  was  as  me. 

For  then  I  had  a  score  o'  kye — 
Ochon,  ochon,  ochrie  ! — 

Feeding  on  yon  hill  sae  high 
And  giving  milk  to  me. 

A  nd  there  I  had  threescore  o'  yowes — 
Ochon,  ochon,  ochrie  ! — 

Skipping  on  yon  bonie  knowes 
And  casting  woo1  to  me. 


I  was  the  happiest  of  a'  the  clan — 
Sair,  sair  may  I  repine  !  — 

For  Donald  was  the  brawest  man, 
And  Donald  he  was  mine. 

Till  Charlie  Stewart  cam  at  last— 

Sae  far  to  set  us  free  ; 
My  Donald's  arm  was  wanted  then 

For  Scotland  and  for  me. 

Their  waefu'  fate  what  need  I  tell  ? 

Right  to  the  wrang  did  yield  ; 
My  Donald  and  his  country  fell 

Upon  Culloden  field. 

Ochon !  O  Donald,  O  ! 

Ochon,  ochon,  ochrie  ! — 
Nae  woman  in  the  warld  wide 

Sae  wretched  now  as  me. 


No.  296.    //  was  a  for  oiir  rightfu    king. 

Tune  :  Mally  Stuart.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  497. 


It        was        a'      for        our      right  -  IV      king    We     left     /  fair 


Scot-land's  strand ;  It        was          a'        for   our      right    -    fu'     king,    We 


land,  my  dear— We         e'er  saw      I    -    nsh    land. 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


279 


IT  was  a1  for  our  rightfu'  king 
We  left  fair  Scotland's  strand  ; 

It  was  a1  for  our  rightfu'  king, 
We  e'er  saw  Irish  land,  my  dear— 
We  e'er  saw  Irish  land. 

Now  a'  is  done  that  men  can  do, 

And  a'  is  done  in  vain, 
My  Love  and  native  land  fareweel, 

For  I  maun  cross  the  main,   my 
dear — 

For  I  maun  cross  the  main. 

[He    turn'd    him    right    and    round 

about 
Upon  the  Irish  shore, 


And  gae  his  bridle  reins  a  shake, 
With  Adieu  for  evermore,  my  dear, 
And  adieu  for  evermore !] 

The  soger  frae  the  wars  returns, 
The  sailor  frae  the  main, 

But  I  hae  parted  frae  my  love 
Never  to  meet  again,  my  dear — 
Never  to  meet  again. 

When  day  is  gane,  and  night  is  come, 
And  a'  folk  bound  to  sleep, 

I  think  on  him  that's  far  awa 
The  lee-lang  night  and  weep,  my 

dear — 
The  lee-lang  night  and  weep. 


No.  297.    Thickest  nighty  surround  my  dwelling. 

Tune  :  Strathallan's  lament.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No,  132. 


Slow 


Thick  -  est  night,  surround    my     dwell  -  ing !  Howling  tem-pests,   o'er      me 


rave  !  Turbid  torrents   win  -  try        swell  -  ing,    Roaring      by         my    lone-ly 


cave  !      Crys-tal  streamlets    gen  -  tly         flow-ing,   Bu  -  sy  haunts    of    base  man 


-    kind,  Western  breezes    soft   -    ly      blowing,  Suit  not      my       dis  -  tracted  mind. 


THICKEST  night,  surround  my  dwell- 
ing ! 

Howling  tempests,  o'er  me  rave  ! 
Turbid  torrents  wintry  swelling, 

Roaring  by  my  lonely  cave  ! 
Crystal  streamlets  gently  flowing, 

Busy  haunts  of  base  mankind, 
Western  breezes  softly  blowing, 

Suit  not  my  distracted  mind. 


In  the  cause  of  right  engaged, 

Wrongs  injurious  to  redress, 
Honour's  war  we  strongly  waged, 

But     the    heavens    deny'd     suc- 
cess. 
Ruin's  wheel  has  driven  o'er  us  ; 

Not  a  hope  that  dare  attend, 
The  wide  world  is  all  before  us, 

But  a  world  without  a  friend  ! 


280 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  298.    There  grows  a  bonie  brier-bush  in  oiir 
kail-yard. 

Tune  :  The  bonie  brier-bush.         Scots  Musical  Museum^  1 796,  No.  492. 
Briskly 


There  grows    a    bon  -  ie   bri  -  er  -  bush    in    our      kail  -  yard,  There 


grows    a     bon  -  ie     bri  -  er  -  bush    in      our       kail  -  yard ;  And      be 


low    the    bon-ie      bri  -  er- bush  there's  a     las  -  sie   and    a    lad,    And 


they're     bu  -  sy,       bu  -  sy         court  -  ing      in       our       kail  -  yard. 


THERE  grows  a  bonie  brier-bush  in  our  kail-yard, 
There  grows  a  bonie  brier-bush  in  our  kail-yard ; 
And  below  the  bonie  brier-bush  there's  a  lassie  and  a  lad, 
And  they're  busy,  busy  courting  in  our  kail-yard. 

We'll  court  nae  mair  below  the  buss  in  our  kail-yard, 
We'll  court  nae  mair  below  the  buss  in  our  kail-yard  ; 
We'll  awa  to  Athole's  green,  and  there  we'll  no  be  seen, 
Whare  the  trees  and  the  branches  will  be  our  safe-guard. 

*  Will  ye  go  to  the  dancin  in  Carlyle's  ha'  ? 

Will  ye  go  to  the  dancin  in  Carlyle's  ha'  ? 

Where  Sandy  and  Nancy  I'm  sure  will  ding  them  a'?' 

'  I  winna  gang  to  the  dance  in  Carlyle  ha.' 

What  will  I  do  for  a  lad  when  Sandy  gangs  awa  ? 
What  will  I  do  for  a  lad  when  Sandy  gangs  awa? 
I  will  awa  to  Edinburgh,  and  win  a  penny  fee, 
And  see  an  onie  bonie  lad  will  fancy  me. 

He 's  comin  frae  the  North  that 's  to  fancy  me, 
He 's  comin  frae  the  North  that 's  to  fancy  me  ; 
A  feather  in  his  bonnet  and  a  ribbon  at  his  knee, 
He  's  a  bonie,  bonie  laddie,  and  yon  be  he  I 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


28l 


No.  299.    The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness. 

Tune  :  The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
Slow  tft 

T7~  ^  *-  •***-^t  -~ 


The    love  -  ly  lass   of       In  -  ver  -  ness,  Nae  joy     nor  pleasure    can 

tr 


she      see ;   For  e'en      to     morn  she    cries      '  a   -   las ! '  And      ay      the 


saut    tear    blin's    her    e'e : — 'Dru-moss-ie    Moor,    Dm.  •   moss    -   ie 
tr  tr 


day—  A    wae  -  fu'    day        it       was    to    me !    For   there         I       lost   my 

tr 


<^  •  *ssir-  <^  '-•b-J-  -*- 


fa    -    ther    dear,      My        fa   -  ther     dear       and       breth    -   ren    three.' 

THE  lovely  lass  of  Inverness, 

Nae  joy  nor  pleasure  can  she  see ; 
For  e'en  to  morn  she  cries,  *  alas  ! ' 

And  ay  the  saut  tear  blin's  her  e'e  : — 
;  Drumossie  Moor,   Drumossie  day — 

A  waefu'  day  it  was  to  me  ! 
For  there  I  lost  my  father  dear, 

My  father  dear  and  brethren  three. 

'Their  winding-sheet  the  bluidy  clay, 

Their  graves  are  growin  green  to  see, 
And  by  them  lies  the  dearest  lad 

That  ever  blest  a  woman's  e'e. 
Now  wae  to  thee,  thou  cruel  lord, 

A  bluidy  man  I  trow  thou  be, 
For  monie  a  heart  thou  hast  made  sair 

That  ne'er  did  wrang  to  thine  or  thee.' 


282 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  300.    Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  draw,  lad? 

Tune  :  An  ye  had  been  where  I  hae  been.         Scots  M.  M.  1790,  No.  292. 
.  Briskly 


4  Whare     hae     ye      been    sae      braw,  lad  ?  Whare    hae  ye      been       sae 


bran-kie,      O?  Whare     hae     ye       been        sae      braw,  lad?    Cam 
CHORUS. 


ye 


IL  l^U.1.     tUS. 

bv       Kil  -  lie  -  cran  -  kie.     O?1       An         \e   had  been  whare      I       hae 


ye   had  been  wh~are      I       hae 
/TN 


been,     Ye        wad-na    been  sae     can  -  tie,     O;    An        ye    had  seen 


'tat 


m 


hae     seen,    /'    the      braes 

WHARE  hae  ye  been  sae  braw,  lad  ? 

Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  brankie,  O? 
Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  braw,  lad  ? 

Cam  ye  by  Killiecrankie,  O  ?  ' 

CHORUS. 

An  ye  had  been  whare  I  hae  been. 

Ye  wadna  been  sae  cantie,  O  ; 

An  ye  had  seen  ivhat  I  hae  seen, 

/'  the  braes  o'  Killiecrankie,  O. 


Kil  -  lie  -  cran  -  kie,     O. 

<I    faught    at    land,    I    faught    at 
sea, 

At  hame  I  faught  my  auntie,  O  ; 
But  I  met  the  devil  and  Dundee, 

On  the  braes  o'  Killiecrankie,  O.1 

'  The  bauld  Pitcur  fell  in  a  furr, 
An'  Clavers  gat  a  clankie,  O, 

Or  I  had  fed  an  Athol  gled, 

On  the  braes  o'  Killiecrankie,  O.' 


No.  301.     The  bonniest  lad  that  eer  I  saw. 

Tune  :  The  Highland  laddie,     Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  No.  36. 
Brisk  tr 


The    bon-niest  lad    that  e'er  I    saw—  Bon-ie    lad  -  die,  Highland  lad  -  die 
tr 


Wore    a    plaid  and      was    fu'  braw—  Bon    -    ie     High -land     lad   -    die! 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


283 


On  his    head       a    bon-net    blue—   Bon-ie    lad -die,  Highland  lad -die;  His 

tr 


roy  -   al   heart  was      firm  and  true—    Bon     -     ie      Highland       lad  -  die ! 


THE  bonniest  lad  that  e'er  I  saw — 

Bonie  laddie,   Highland  laddie  ; 
Wore  a  plaid  and  was  fu'  braw — 

Bonie  Highland  laddie ! 
On  his  head  a  bonnet  blue — 

Bonie  laddie,   Highland  laddie ; 
His  royal  heart  was  firm  and  true — 

Bonie  Highland  laddie  ! 

'  Trumpets  sound  and  cannons  roar, 
Bonie  lassie,   Lawland  lassie — 

And  a'  the  hills  wi'  echoes  roar, 
Bonie  Lawland  lassie  ! 


Glory,  honor,  now  invite — 
Bonie  lassie,  Lawland  lassie  ; 

For  freedom  and  my  King  to  fight, 
Bonie  Lawland  lassie  ! ' 

'The  sun  a  back  ward  course  shall  take, 

Bonie  laddie,   Highland  laddie  ; 
Ere  ought  thy  manly  courage  shake  ; 

Bonie  Highland  laddie  ! 
Go,  for  yoursel'  procure  renown, 

Bonie  laddie,   Highland  laddie, 
And  for  your  lawful  king  his  crown, 

Bonie  Highland  laddie!' 


No.  302.    By  yon  Castle  wa  at  the  close  of  the  day. 

Tune  :  There  are  few  good  fellows  when  Jamie's  awa.   Scots  M.M.IIQZ,  No.  315. 
With  pathos 


yon 


cas  -  tie      wa'      at    the        close      of        the          day, 


heard      a         man        sing,    tho'    his     head     it         was        grey 


he        was  sing  -  ing,  the        tears  doon  came, 


till       Ja  -  mie    comes      hame.' 

BY  yon  castle  wa'  at  the  close  of  the  day, 
I  heard  a  man  sing,  tho'  his  head  it  was  grey, 
And  as  he  was  singing,  the  tears  doon  came, 
'There'll  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  hame.' 


284 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


The  Church  is  in  ruins,  the  State  is  in  jars  ; 
Delusions,   oppressions,  and  murderous  wars, 
We  darena  weel  say't,  but  we  ken  wha's  to  blame — 
'There'll  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  hame.' 

My  seven  braw  sons  for  Jamie  drew  sword, 
But  now  I  greet  round  their  green  beds  in  the  yerd  ; 
It  brak  the  sweet  heart  o'  my  faithfu1  auld  dame — 
'  There'll  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  hame.' 

Now  life  is  a  burden  that  bows  me  down, 
Sin  I  tint  my  bairns,  and  he  tint  his  crown ; 
But  till  my  last  moments  my  words  are  the  same — 
*  There'll  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  hame.' 


No.  303.    /  hae  been  at  Crookieden. 

Tune  :   The  old  highland  laddie.          Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  332. 
Lively 


I         hae        been      at      Croo   -    kie     -     den—  My     bon  -  ie       lad    - 


die,          High    -    land          lad  -  die,     View    -    ing       Wil    -    lie         and 


his         men—    My    bon  -  ie       lad    •    die,         High   -   land     lad  -   die! 


There      our    foes        that       burnt    and    slew—    My       bon  -  ie       lad  -  die, 

£ 


High  -  land        lad  .   die,      There       at          last        they  gat         their 


due—     My          bon  -  ie          lad    .    die,          High  -  land         lad    •    die. 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


285 


I  HAE  been  at  Crookieden — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie, 
Viewing  Willie  and  his  men — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie! 
There  our  foes  that  burnt  and  slew — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie, 
There  at  last  they  gat  their  due — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie. 


Satan  sits  in  his  black  neuk  — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie, 
Breaking  sticks  to  roast  the  Duke  — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie. 
The  bloody  monster  gae  a  yell — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie, 
And  loud  the  laugh  gae  round  a'  hell — 

My  bonie  laddie,  Highland  laddie. 


No.  304.    'Tivas  on  a  Monday  morning. 

Tune  :  Charlie,  he  's  my  darling,         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  428. 


'Twas      on        a     Mon  -  day      morn    -  ing    Right    ear  -  ly        in      the 

/T\ 


year,  That    Char  -  lie    came    to       our      town — The     young    Che  -  va  -  Her ! 


CHORUS.  An*      Char-lie^    he's    my    dar-ling,    my    dar-ling,    my      dar-ling, 


Char  -  h'e,     he  'j     my          dar  -    ling— the        yonng   Che  -   va  -  Her ! 


'TWAS  on  a  Monday  morning 
Right  early  in  the  year, 

That  Charlie  came  to  our  town  — 
The  young  Chevalier  ! 

CHORUS. 

An1  Charlie,  he 's  my  darling, 

My  darling,  my  darling, 
Charlie,  he^s  my  darling — 
The  young  Chevalier  I 

As  he  was  walking  up  the  street 

The  city  for  to  view, 
O,  there  he  spied  a  bonie  lass 

The  window  looking  thro', 


Sae  light 's  he  jumped  up  the  stair, 

And  tiiTd  at  the  pin  ; 
And  wha  sae  ready  as  herseP 

To  let  the  laddie  in  ! 

He  set  his  Jenny  on  his  knee, 
All  in  his  highland  dress  ; 

For    brawly    weel    he    ken'd     the 

way, 
To  please  a  bonie  lass. 

It 's  up  yon  heathery  mountain 
An'  down  yon  scroggy  glen, 

We  daurna  gang  a  milking, 
For  Charlie  and  his  men  ! 


286 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  305.    Frae  the  friends  and  land  I  love. 

Tune:  Carron  side.         Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1756,  viii.  p.  10. 
Plaintive 


tr 


Frae        the      friends   and     land        I 
tr 


love      Driv'n     by      For  -  tune's 
tr 


spite,    Frae         my       best      be  -  lov'd 


er        mair     to     taste        de   -   light:       Nev     -     er          mair        maun 


hope  to  find          Ease         frae         toil,  re 


lief 


frae  care ;     When         re     -     mem   -  brance         wracks        the 


mind,  Plea    -    sures  but  un       -       veil         des     -     pair. 


FRAE  the  friends  and  land  I  love 

Driv'n  by  Fortune's  felly  spite, 
Frae  my  best  belov'd  I  rove, 

Never  mair  to  taste  delight; 
Never  mair  maun  hope  to  find 

Ease  frae  toil,  relief  frae  care  : 
When  remembrance  wracks  the  mind, 

Pleasures  but  unveil  despair. 

Brightest  climes  shall  mirk  appear, 

Desert  ilka  blooming  shore, 
Till  the  Fates,  nae  mair  severe, 

Friendship,  Love,  and  Peace  restore 
Till  Revenge  wi'  laurel'd  head 

Bring  our  banish'd  hame  again, 
And  ilk  loyal,  bonie  lad 

Cross  the  seas,  and  win  his  ain. 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


287 


No.  306.    As  I  came  der  the  Cairney  mount. 

Tune:  The  Highland  lassie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  467. 
Brisk 


f^^  ^N 


As         I      came       o'er        the        Cair   -  ney  mount,  And  down 


mang    the    bloom   -   ing      hea-ther,  Kind-ly  stood    themilk-ing-shiel    To 

CHORUS. 


shel-ter     frae        the     storm -y    wea-ther.     O,      -my    ban    -    ie        High    - 


land    lad,      My       win-some,  weel-far^  d  High  •  land      lad  -  die !  Wha  wad 


mind  the  wind  and  rain  Sae  weel  row1  d  in        his       tar -tan     plaid  -  iel 


As  I  came  o'er  the  Cairney  mount, 

And  down  amang  the  blooming  heather, 

Kindly  stood  the  milking-shiel 

To  shelter  frae  the  stormy  weather. 

CHORUS.     O,  my  bonie  Highland  lad, 

My  winsome,  weel-fard  Highland  laddie  I 
Wha  wad  mind  the  wind  and  rain 
Sae  weel  rowd  in  his  tartan  plaidie  I 

Now  Phrebus  blinkit  on  the  bent, 

And  o'er  the  knowes  the  lambs  were  bleating; 
But  he  wan  my  heart's  consent 

To  be  his  ain  at  the  neist  meeting. 


288 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


IX.    MISCELLANEOUS 


No.  307.    The  sun  he  is  sunk  in  the  west. 

Tune  :  Go  from,  my  window,  love,  do.         Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1803,  No.  581. 


zfaB±j^§^^^=£p 


The         sun     he      is    sunk    in        the    west,       All         crea-tures  re    - 


ti  -  red       to  rest,       While        here      I     sit,    all    sore    be  -  set  With 


sor  -  row,  grief,  and  woe ;  And  its         O         fie  -  kle  For  -  tune,        O  I 


THE  sun  he  is  sunk  in  the  west, 
All  creatures  retired  to  rest, 
While  here  I  sit,  all  sore  beset 

With  sorrow,  grief,  and  woe ; 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 

The  prosperous  man  is  asleep, 
Nor     hears    how     the    whirlwinds 

sweep  ; 

But  misery  and  I  must  watch 
The  surly  tempest  blow : 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 

There  lies  the  dear  [partner]  of  my 

breast ; 

Her  cares  for  a  moment  at  rest ; 
Must  I  see  thee,  my  youthful  pride, 
Thus  brought  so  very  low? — 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 


There  lie  my  sweet  [babies]  in  her 

arms ;  [alarms  ; 

No  anxious  fear  their  [little]  hearts 

But  for  their  sake,  my  heart  does  ache, 

With  many  a  bitter  throe : 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 

I  once  was  by  Fortune  carest : 
I  once  could  relieve  the  distrest ; 
Now   life's    poor    [pittance]    hardly 
earn'd, 

My  fate  will  scarce  bestow  ; 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 

No  comfort,  no  comfort  I  have  ! 
How  welcome  to  me  were  the  grave  ! 
But  then  my  wife  and  children  dear — 

O,  whither  would  they  go  ? 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 


O  whither,  O  [whither]  shall  I  turn 
All  friendless,  forsaken,  forlorn  ? 
For  in  this  world  Rest  or  Peace 

I  never  more  shall  know ! 
And  it 's  O  fickle  Fortune,  O  ! 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


289 


No.  308.    There  was  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle. 

Tune  :  Dainty  Davie.         McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,  p.  32. 
Brisk 


CHORUS. 


was       a  ro  -   z>*« 


ran  -  fin,    ro  -  vin,  Ro  •  bin   was         a  ro   -    vin      boy,      Ran-iin, 

tr      Fine. 


IL  tr      fine.  ^- 


ro    ~    vin         Ro  -  bin !  There  was     a         lad      was      born        in      Kyle, 


But    what  -  na  day  o'      what  - 
tr 


style,      I      doubt   it's  hard  -  ly 

tr  D.C. 


worth       the      while      To  be        sae        nice       wi1          Ro     -    bin. 


CHORUS.     Robin  was  a  rovin  boy, 

Rantin,  rovin,  rantin,  rovin, 
Robin  was  a  rovin  boy, 
Rantin,  rovin  Robin  / 


THERE  was  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle, 
But  whatna  day  o'  whatna  style, 
I  doubt  it 's  hardly  worth  the  while 
To  be  sae  nice  wi1  Robin. 

Our  monarch's    hindmost  year   but 

ane 

Was  five-and-twenty  days  begun, 
'Twas  then  a  blast  o'  Janwar  win' 
Blew  hansel  in  on  Robin. 

The  gossip  keekit  in  his  loof, 
Quo'scho  *wha  lives  will  see  the  proof, 
This  waly  boy  will  be  nae  coof ; 
I  think  we'll  ca'  him  Robin. 


4  He'll  hae  misfortunes  great  an'sma', 
But  ay  a  heart  aboon  them  a'  ; 
He'll  be  a  credit  till  us  a' ; 
W'll    a'  be  proud  o'  Robin. 

*  But  sure  as  three  times  three  mak 

nine, 

I  see  by  ilka  score  and  line, 
This  chap  will  dearly  like  our  kin', 
So  leeze  me  on  thee,  Robin.' 

Guid  faith,  quo'  scho,  I  doubt  you,  sir, 
Ye  gar  the  lasses  lie  aspar, 
But  twenty  fauts  ye  may  hae  waur,  — 
So  blessins  on  thee,  Robin  ! 


290 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  309.    Is  there  for  honest  poverty  ? 

Tune  :  For  a1  that.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  290. 
Boldly 


Is      there    for  hon-est    pov-er  -  ty  That  hings  his  head,  an'    a'  that? 


The      cow  -  ard  slave,  we   pass  him  by —  We  dare    be  poor  for        a1    that ! 


For        a'        that,    an'       a'         that,  Our    toils    ob-scure,  an'  a'      that,  The 


=F=      >  J-*^-~ij=t^-*  *:?* 


rank     is   but      the      guinea's  stamp,  The  man  's  the  gowd      for         a'     that. 


Is  there  for  honest  poverty 

That  hings  his  head,  an'  a'  that? 
The  coward  slave,  we  pass  him  by  — 
We  dare  be  poor  for  a'  that  ! 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Our  toils  obscure,  an'  a'  that, 
The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
The  man  's  the  gowd  for  a'  that. 

What  tho'  on  hamely  fare  we  dine, 

Wear  hodden  grey,  an'  a'  that  ? 
Gie  fools  their  silks,  and  knaves  their*wine 
A  man  's  a  man  for  a1  that  ! 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Their  tinsel  show,  an'  a'  that, 
The  honest  man,  tho'  e'er  sae  poor, 
Is  king  o'  men  for  a'  that. 

Ye  see  yon  birkie  ca'd  a  lord, 

Wha  struts,  and  stares,  aa'  a'  that  ; 
Tho'  hundreds  worship  at  his  word, 
He's  but  a  coof  for  a'  that. 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

His  ribband,  star,  an'  a'  that, 
The  man  o'  independent  mind, 
He  looks  an'  laughs  at  a'  that. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


291 


A  prince  can  mak  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  an'  a'  that, 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might — 
Gude  faith,  he  mauna  fa'  that ! 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 

Their  dignities,  an'  a'  that, 
The  pith  o'  sense  an'  pride  o'  worth 
Are  higher  rank  than  a'  that. 

Then  let  us  pray  that  come  it  may — 

As  come  it  will,  for  a'  that — 
That  sense  and  worth,  o'er  a'  the  earth 
Shall  bear  the  gree,  an'  a'  that ; 
For  a'  that,  an'  a'  that, 
It's  comin  yet  for  a'  that, 
That  man  to  man  tfye  world  o'er, 
Shall  brothers  be  for  a'  that. 


No.  310.   /  dreatrid  I  lay  where  flowers  were 
springing. 

Tune  :  1 dream  W I  lay.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  146. 


I  dream'd  I    lay  where  flowers  were  spring-ing    Gai  -  ly      in         the 

I?       IS.   te     : 


^=^3=t^ 


sun   -   ny        beam;  Listening    to      the  *wild   birds    sing -ing,       By      a 


fall    -    ing         crys  -   tal      stream :  Straight  the     sky    grew    black  and 

/Ts 


dar  -  ing  ;    Thro'    the    woods       the  whirl  -  winds  rave ;    Trees  with 


ag  -  ed    arms   were    war  -  ring  O'er    the  swell  -  ing,     drum -lie     wave. 

I  DREAM'D  I  lay  where  flowers  were  springing 

Gaily  in  the  sunny  beam ; 
List'ning  to  the  wild  birds  singing, 

By  a  falling  crystal  stream : 
u  a 


292 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


Straight  the  sky  grew  black  and  daring  ; 

Thro'  the  woods  the  whirlwinds  rave ; 
Trees  with  aged  arms  were  warring 

O'er  the  swelling,  drumlie  wave. 

Such  was  my  life's  deceitful  morning, 

Such  the  pleasures  I  enjoyed  ; 
But  lang  or  noon  loud  tempests,  storming, 

A'  my  flowery  bliss  destroy'd. 
Tho'  fickle  Fortune  has  deceived  me — 

She  promis'd  fair,  and  perform'd  but  ill ; 
Of  mony  a  joy  and  hope  bereav'd  me — 

I  bear  a  heart  shall  support  me  still. 


No.  311.   Farewell,  ye  dungeons  dark  and  strong. 

Tune  :  McPherson's  rant.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  114. 

**** 


Fare  -  well,    ye  dun  -  geons  dark    and    strong,  The        wretch's        des 


55=  :rrns     ^   is     Is    ~^ — ^    F*  rs — ^~i 


tin    -    ie !  M«  -  Pher  -  son's  time    will         not         be         long       On 

CHORUS. 


yon     -     der          gal     -     lows         tree.        Sae  rant  -  ing    -    /y, 


wan  -  ton  -  fy,    Sae  daunUing  •   ly        gaed      he^         He  play'd  a     spring^ 


and     danced       it        round     Be     •     low         the        gal  -   lows     tree. 

FAREWELL,  ye  dungeons  dark  and  strong, 

The  wretch's  destinie  ! 
McPherson's  time  will  not  be  long 

On  yonder  gallows-tree. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


293 


CHORUS.     Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly, 

Sae  dauntingly  gaed  he, 
He  played  a  spring,  and  danced  it  round 
Below  the  gallows  tree. 

O,  what  is  death  but  parting  breath  ! 

On  many  a  bloody  plain 
I've  dared  his  face,  and  in  this  place 

I  scorn  him  yet  again  ! 

Untie  these  bands  from  off  my  hands, 

And  bring  to  me  my  sword, 
And  there 's  no  a  man  in  all  Scotland 

But  I'll  brave  him  at  a  word. 

I've  liv'd  a  life  of  sturt  and  strife ; 

I  die  by  treacherie  : 
It  burns  my  heart  I  must  depart, 

And  not  avenged  be. 

Now  farewell  light,  thou  sunshine  bright, 

And  all  beneath  the  sky ! 
May  coward  shame  distain  his  name, 

The  wretch  that  dare  not  die ! 


No.  312.    O,  raging  Fortunes  withering  blast. 

(Tune  unknown.) 

0,  RAGING  Fortune's  withering  blast 

Has  laid  my  leaf  full  low, 
O,  raging  Fortune's  withering  blast 

Has  laid  my  leaf  full  low. 

My  stem  was  fair,  my  bud  was  green, 

My  blossom  sweet  did  blow  ; 
The  dew  fell  fresh,  the  sun  rose  mild, 

And  made  my  branches  grow. 

But  luckless  Fortune's  northern  storms 

Laid  a'  my  blossoms  low  ! — 
But  luckless  Fortune's  northern  storms 

Laid  a'  my  blossoms  low! 


294 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  313.    The  gloomy  night  is  gat  tiring  fast. 

Tune:  Roslin  Castle.         Bremner's  Scots  Songs  (2nd  set),  1757,  p.  27. 
Slow 


The         gloo    -    my       night        is  gath   -  'ring     fast,       Loud 


roars        the        wild,         in 


con     -      stant    blast ;    Yon  mur 


17—  ";-»        *          *-> 


ky        cloud         is 


foul         with        rain, 


** 


driv     -     ing          o'er        the       plain ;      The       hun  -  ter      now      has 


left  the      moor,      The  scat   -  ter'd        co    -    veys  meet 


se     -  cure;     "While        here         I        wan    -  def,         prest        with 

tr 


care,        A     •     long         the  lone     -     ly     banks        of          Ayr. 


THE  gloomy  night  is  gath'ring  fast, 
Loud     roars    the    wild,    inconstant 

blast; 

Yon  murky  cloud  is  foul  with  rain, 
I  see  it  driving  o'er  the  plain  ; 
The  hunter  now  has  left  the  moor, 
The  scatter'd  coveys  meet  secure  ; 
While    here   I   wander,  prest   with 

care, 
Along  the  lonely  banks  of  Ayr. 


The  Autumn    mourns    her   rip'ning 

corn 

By  early  Winter's  ravage  torn  ; 
Across  her  placid,  azure  sky, 
She  sees  the  scowling  tempest  fly  : 
Chill    runs    my    blood    to    hear    it 

rave  ; 

I  think  upon  the  stormy  wave, 
Where  many  a  danger  I  must  dare, 
Far  from  the  bcnie  banks  of  Ayr. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


295 


'Tis  not  the  surging  billows  roar, 
'Tis  not  that  fatal,  deadly  shore  ; 
Tho'  death  in  evVy  shape  appear, 
The  wretched  have  no  more  to  fear  : 
But    round   my   heart   the  ties    are 

bound, 
That  heart  transpierc'd  with  many  a 

wound  ; 
These    bleed    afresh,    those    ties    I 

tear, 
To  leave  the  bonie  banks  of  Ayr. 


Farewell,  old  Coila's  hills  and  dale?, 
Her  heathy  moors  and  winding  vales ; 
The  scenes  where  wretched  fancy 

roves, 

Pursuing  past  unhappy  loves  ! 
Farewell  my  friends  !   farewell  my 

foes  ! 
My  peace  with  these,  my  love  with 

those : — 

The  bursting  teaus  my  heart  declare 
Farewell  the  bonie  banks  of  Ayr  ! 


No.  314.    Raving  winds  aroiind  her  blowing. 

Tune  :  McGrigor  of  RorcCs  lament.      Macdonald's  Highland  Airs,  1784,  p.  13. 
Very  slow  tr 


Rav  -  ing      winds       a    -    round      her         blow  -  ing-,      Yel    -  low     leaves 
tr 


the        wood    -    lands  strow    -    ing,         By  ~"~      a 


-0— p- 


hoarse  -  ly       roar  -  ing,      Is    -    a     -     bel     -      la    stray'd  de   -    plor  -  ing. 

RAVING  winds  around  her  blowing, 
Yellow  leaves  the  woodlands  strewing, 
By  a  river  hoarsely  roaring,. 
Isabella  stray'd  deploring  : — 

'  Farewell,  hours  that  late  did  measure 
Sunshine  days  of  joy  and  pleasure  ! 
Hail,  thou  gloomy  night  of  sorrow — 
Cheerless  night  that  knows  no  morrow! 

1  O'er  the  past  too  fondly  wandering, 
On  the  hopeless  future  pondering, 
Chilly  Grief  my  life-blood  freezes, 
Fell  Despair  my  fancy  seizes. 

'Life,  thou 'soul  of  every  blessing, 
Load  to  Misery  most  distressing, 
Gladly  how  would  I  resign  thee, 
And  to  dark  oblivion  join  thee  ! ' 


296 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  315.    What  will  I  do  gin  my  hoggie  die  ? 

Tune:  What  will  I  do,  &>c.         McGlashan's  Scots  Measures,  1781,  p.  u. 

f 


What   will    I      do    gin  my   hog-gie  die?    My     joy,  my  pride,  my 


hog-gie!      My      on  -  ly  beast,     I        had   nae  mae,    And       vow      but 
tr 


I          was        vo  -  gie !        The       lee-lang  night  we     watch'd    the      fauld, 


Me         and         my        faith    -    fu'  dog  -  gie;      We    heard    nocht 


but  the  roar -ing    linn        A    -    mang     the     braes       sae        scrog-gie. 


WHAT  will  I  do  gin  my  hoggie  die  ? 

My  joy,  my  pride,  my  hoggie ! 
My  only  beast,  I  had  nae  mae, 

And  vow  but  I  was  vogie ! 
The  lee-lang  night  we  watch'd  the  fauld, 

Me  and  my  faithfu'  doggie ; 
We  heard  nocht  but  the  roaring  linn 

Amang  the  braes  sae  scroggie ; 

But  the  houlet  cried  frae  the  castle  wa', 

The  blitter  frae  the  boggie, 
The  tod  reply'd  upon  the  hill; 

I  trembled  for  my  hoggie. 
When  day  did  daw,  and  cocks  did  craw, 

The  morning  it  was  foggie, 
An  unco  tyke  lap  o'er  the  dike, 

And  maist  has  kill'd  my  hoggie  ! 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


297 


No.  316.    It  was  in  sweet  Senegal. 

Tune  :   The  slave's  lament.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  384. 


It     was    in  sweet  Sen  -  e  -  gal  that  my  foes    did  me    en  -  thral  For  the 


lands    of    Vir- gin-ia,  -gin -ia,        O:        Torn  from  that  lovely  shore,  And  must 


nev  -  er    see     it   more,  And    a  •   las  !      I      am  wea  -  ry,  wea  -  ry,        O. 

IT  was  in  sweet  Senegal  that  my  foes  did  me  enthral 

For  the  lands  of  Virginia,  -ginia,  O  : 
Torn  from  that  lovely  shore,  and  must  never  see  it  more,  )  , . 

And  alas  !    I  am  weary,  weary,  O.  ) 

All  on  that  charming  coast  is  rip  bitter  snow  and  frost, 

Like  the  lands  of  Virginia,  -ginia,  O  : 
There  streams  for  ever  flow,  and  the  flowers  for  ever  blow,  )  , . 

And  alas !    I  am  weary,  weary,  O.  ) 

The  burden  I  must  bear,  while  the  cruel  scourge  I  fear, 

In  the  lands  of  Virginia,  -ginia,  O  ; 
And  I  think  on  friends  most  dear  with  the  bitter,  bitter  tear, 

And  alas  !   I  am  weary,  weary,  O. 


No.  317.    One  night  as  I  did  wander. 

Tune  :  John  Anderson  my  jo  (see  No.  212). 

ONE  night  as  I  did  wander, 

When  corn  begins  to  shoot, 
I  sat  me  down  to  ponder 

Upon  an  auld  tree  root : 
Auld  Ayr  ran  by  before  me, 

And  bicker'd  to  the  seas  ; 
A  cushat  crooded  o'er  me, 

That  echo'd  through  the  trees. 
*        *        *        *        * 


I 


298 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  318.    The  lazy  mist  hangs  from  the  brow  of 
the  hill. 

Tune  :   The  lazy  mist.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  232. 
Slow 


f^t^^^fe^^H^-g 


The         la   -   zy    mist   hangs  from  the       brow       of      the        hill,        Con 


-    ceal  -  ing    the    course  of     the       dark   wind  -  ing      rill ;     How     lan-guid 


the   scenes,  late  so       spright  -  ly,    ap  -  pear,     As        Au  -  tumn  to     Win   - 


* 


-    ter       re   -  signs    the    pale     year!        The      for  -  ests   are     leaf -less,  the 


mea-dows   are      brown,  And         all         the    gay          fop   -  pery    of       Sum 


-    mer     is      flown.       A  -  part     let     me     wan  -  der, 


part       let    me 


i 


muse,    How     quick  Time      is  fly  -  ing,     how       keen  Fate  pur  -  sues ! 

THE  lazy  mist  hangs  from  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
Concealing  the  course  of  the  dark  winding  rill ; 
How  languid  the  scenes,  late  so  sprightly,  appear, 
As  Autumn  to  Winter  resigns  the  pale  year ! 
The  forests  are  leafless,  the  meadows  are  brown, 
And  all  the  gay  foppery  of  Summer  is  flown. 
Apart  let  me  wander,  apart  let  me  muse, 
How  quick  Time  is  flying,  how  keen  Fate  pursues ! 

How  long  I  have  liv'd,  but  how  much  liv'd  in  vain  ! 
How  little  of  life's  scanty  span  may  remain, 
What  aspects  old  Time  in  his  progress  has  worn  ! 
What  ties  cruel  Fate  in  my  bosom  has  torn  ! 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


299 


How  foolish,  or  worse,  till  our  summit  is  gain'd  ! 

And  downward,  how  weaken'd,  how  darken'd,  how  pain'd  ! 

Life  is  not  worth  having  with  all  it  can  give — 

For  something  beyond  it  poor  man,  sure,  must  live. 


No.  3 1 9.    Ken  ye  ought  o    Captain  Grose  ? 

Tune:  Sir  John  Malcolm.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  455. 

Slow 


Ken    ye    ought  o'    Cap  -  tain   Grose  ?       I   -  go     and   a    -  go,      If 


he  's      a  -  mong  his  friends  or      foes  ?  /  •  ram,  co  -  ram,  da  -  go. 


Is        he    south,  or     is       he      north  ?        /    .    go     and    a    •   go,        Or 


drown  •  ed     in      the    ri    •    ver    Forth?         /-  ram,  co- ram,   da  -  go. 

KEN  ye  ought  o'  Captain  Grose?     Igo  and  ago, 

If  he  's  among  his  friends  or  foes  ?   Iram,  coram,  dago. 

Is  he  south,  or  is  he  north?   Igo  and  ago, 

Or  drowned  in  the  river  Forth?   Iram,  coram,  dago. 

Is  he  slain  by  Hielan'  bodies  ?   Igo  and  ago, 

And  eaten  like  a  wether  haggis?  Irani,  coram,  dago. 

Is  he  to  Abra'm's  bosom  gane  ?   Igo  and  ago, 

Or  haudin  Sarah  by  the  wame  ?  Iram,  coram,  dago. 

Where'er  he  be,  the  Lord  be  near  him !   Igo  and  ago, 
As  for  the  deil,  he  daurna  steer  him  !   Iram,  coram,  dago. 
But  please  transmit  th*  enclosed  letter,  Igo  and  ago, 
Which  will  oblige  your  humble  debtor,  Iram,  coram,  dago. 

So  may  ye  hae  auld  stanes  in  store,  Igo  and  ago, 
The  very  stanes  that  Adam  bore,  Iram,  coram,  dago. 
So  may  ye  get  in  glad  possession,  Igo  and  ago, 
The  coins  o'  Satan's  coronation  !   Iram,  coram,  dago. 


300 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  320.    (9,  leeze  me  on  my  spinnin-wheel. 

Tune  :  Sweet  's  the  lass  that  loves  me.      Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  360. 


tfc 


O,        leeze     me         on     my        spin  -  nin  •  wheel,  And    leeze        me 


on        my          rock  and   reel,      Frae       tap     to       tae        that    deeds  me 


bien,   And      haps       me.         fiel  and       warm       at       e'en!  I'll 

" 


set       me      down,     and  sing        and      spin,    While        laigh         de 


scends       the  sim  -  mer     sun,  Blest      wi'     con  -  tent,    and        milk 


and    meal—  O,          leeze       me          on          my  spin  -  nin  -  wheel! 


O,  LEEZE  me  on  my  spin  nin- wheel, 
And  leeze  me  on  my  rock  and  reel, 
Frae  tap  to  tae  that  deeds  me  bien, 
And  haps  me  fiel  and  warm  at  e'en! 
I'll  set  me  down,  and  sing  and  spin, 
While  laigh  descends  the  simmer  sun, 
Blest  wi'  content,  and  milk  and  meal — 
O,  leeze  me  on  my  spinnin-wheel ! 

On  ilka  hand  the  burnies  trot, 
And  meet  below  my  theekit  cot. 
The  scented  birk  and  hawthorn  white 
Across  the  pool  their  arms  unite, 
Alike  to  screen  the  birdies'  nest 
And  little  fishes'  caller  rest: 
The  sun  blinks  kindly  in  the  biel', 
Where  blythe  I  turn  my  spinnin-wheel. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


301 


On  lofty  aiks  the  cushats  wail, 
And  Echo  cons  the  doolfu'  tale. 
The  lintwhites  in  the  hazel  braes, 
Delighted,  rival  ither's  lays ; 
The  craik  amang  the  claver  hay, 
The  paitrick  whirrin  o'er  the  ley, 
The  swallow  jinkin  round  my  shiel, 
Amuse  me  at  my  spinnin-wheel. 

Wi'  sma'  to  sell  and  less  to  buy, 
Aboon  distress,  below  envy, 
O,  wha  wad  leave  this  humble  state 
For  a'  the  pride  of  a'  the  great  ? 
Amid  their  flaring,  idle  toys, 
Amid  their  cumbrous,  dinsome  joys, 
Can  they  the  peace  and  pleasure  feel 
Of  Bessie  at  her  spinnin-wheel  ? 


No.  321.     Cauld  blaws  the  wind  frae  east  to  west. 

Tune  :  Up  in  the  morning  early.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  140. 
Slowly 


Cauld    blaws    the      wind    frae        east         to     west,    The          drift 


is        driv    -     ing        sair  -  ly,  Sae  l9ud    and  shill's   I         hear      the 

CHORUS. 


•J    J 


blast— I'm        sure 

, 


it's        win    -    ter        fair  •  ly. 


Up      in    the 


\ 


F 


morning 's    no      forme,       Up     in   the  morn  -  ing  ear  -  ly  I  When    a1 


the  hills  are    cov-er'd  tut"1  snaw,  Pm       sure    ifs     win  -  ter    fair-lyl 

CAULD  blaws  the  wind  frae  east  to  west, 

The  drift  is  driving  sairly, 
Sae  loud  and  shill  's  I  hear  the  blast — 

I'm  sure  it's  winter  fairly. 


302 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


CHORUS.      Up  in  the  morning  's  no  for  me. 

Up  in  the  morning  early ! 
When  a1  the  hills  are  cover  d  wf  snaw, 

I'm  sure  it's  winter  fairly ! 
The  birds  sit  chittering  in  the  thorn, 

A'  day  they  fare  but  sparely ; 
And  lang  's  the  night  frae  e'en  to  morn — 
I'm  sure  it 's  winter  fairly. 


No.  322.    No  cold  approach,  no  alter  d  mien. 

Air  :  lanthy  the  lovely.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  340. 
a.       Slow 


-5 1 1 ^t-l F 1""""* KTT I 


*"X'  ^"^— 

No  cold      ap  -  proach,  no 


ter'd     mien,  Just      what 


would      make      sus 


cion       start,    No        pause        the       dire 


H^ai  M    r-hd— hH 

,T    '--•^-J-v-J-  J3 •    J  J    J 


ex     -    tremes         be    -    tween:  He         made     me        blest— and        broke 


my    heart.  From  hope,      the        wretch's  an  -  chor,      torn,    Ne- 


-*-*—.—* 


m 


gleet 


ed       and 


gleet    -     it 


all;     Friend  -  less,      for 


sak    -    en 


shed 


must  ev       -        er  fall,          must  ev      -     er 

No  cold  approach,  no  alter'd  mien, 

Just  what  would  make  suspicion  start, 
No  pause  the  dire  extremes  between  : 

He  made  me  blest— and  broke  my  heart. 
[From  hope,  the  wretch's  anchor,  torn, 

Neglected  and  neglecting  all ; 
Friendless,  forsaken  and  forlorn, 
The  tears  I  shed  must  ever  fall.] 


fall. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


303 


No.  323.   My  father  was  a  farmer. 

Tune  :   The  Weaver  and  his  shuttle  (see  No.  67). 


MY  father  was  a  farmer 

Upon  the  Carrick  border,  O, 
And  carefully  he  bred  me 

In  decency  and  order,  O  ; 
He  bade  me  act  a  manly  part, 

Tho'  I  had  ne'er  a  farthing,  O, 
For  without  an  honest,  manly  heart, 

No  man  was  worth  regarding,  O. 

Then  out  into  the  world 

My  course  I  did  determine,  O  ; 
Tho'  to  be  rich  was  not  my  wish, 

Yet  to  be  great  was  charming,  O  : 
My  talents  they  were  not  the  worst, 

Nor  yet  my  education,  O  ; 
Resolved -was  I  at  least  to  try 

To  mend  my  situation,  O. 

In  many  a  way,  and  vain  essay 

I  courted  Fortune's  favour,   O  ; 
Some  cause   unseen   still   stept   be- 
tween 

To  frustrate  each  endeavour,  O  : 
Sometimes    by    foes    I    was    o'er- 
power'd, 

Sometimes  by  friends  forsaken,  O, 
And  when  my  hope  was  at  the  top, 

I  still  was  worst  mistaken,  O. 

Then  sore  harass'd,  and  tir'd  at  last 

With  Fortune's  vain  delusion,  O, 
I  dropt  my  schemes  like  idle  dreams, 

And  came  to  this  conclusion,  O  : — 
The  past  was  bad,  and  the  future 
hid; 

It's  good  or  ill  untried,   O  ; 
But   the   present   hour  was   in   my 
power, 

And  so  I  would  enjoy  it,  O. 

No  help,  nor  hope,  nor  view  had  I, 
Nor  person  to  befriend  me,  O  ; 

So  I  must  toil,  and  sweat,  and  broil, 
And  labour  to  sustain  me,  O  : 


To  plough  and  sow,  to  reap  and  mow, 
My  father  bred  me  early,  O  ; 

For  one,  he  said,  to  labour  bred, 
Was  a  match  for  Fortune  fairly,  O. 

Thus   all    obscure,    unknown,    and 
poor, 

Thro'  life  I'm  doom'd  to  wander,  O, 
Till  down  my  weary  bones  I  lay 

In  everlasting  slumber,   O  ; 
No  view  nor  care,  but  shun  whate'er 

Might  breed  me  pain  or  sorrow,  O  ; 
I  live  to-day  as  well's  I  may, 

Regardless  of  to-morrow,  O. 

But,  cheerful  still,   I  am  as  well 

As  a  monarch  in  a  palace,  O, 
Tho'  Fortune's  frown  still  hunts  me 
down, 

With  all  her  wonted  malice,  O  : 
I  make  indeed  my  daily  bread, 

But  ne'er  can  make  it  farther,  O  ; 
But,  as  daily  bread  is  all  I  need, 

I  do  not  much  regard  her,   O. 

When  sometimes  by  my  labour 

I  earn  a  little  money,  O, 
Some  unforeseen  misfortune 

Comes  gen'rally  upon  me,  O  : 
Mischance,  mistake,  or  by  neglect, 

Or  my  good-natur'd  folly,  O  ; 
But,  come  what  will,  I've  sworn  it 
still, 

I'll  ne'er  be  melancholy,  O. 

All  you  who  follow  wealth  and  power 

With  unremitting  ardour,  O, 
The     more    in   this  you   look    for 
bliss, 

You  leave  your  view  the  farther,  O. 
Had  you  the  wealth  Potosi  boasts, 

Or  nations  to  adore  you,  O, 
A  cheerful,  honest-hearted  clown 

I  will  prefer  before  you,  O ! 


3°4 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  324.    When  chill  November  s  surly  blast. 


Tune:  Peggy  Bawn. 
Slow 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  509. 


When    chill    No  -  vem-ber's    sur  -  ly  blast    Made    fields   and     for  -  ests  bare, 

£= 


One      ev'n  -  ing,     as      I      wan-der'd  forth,    A    -    long    the    banks  of     Ayr, 


I         spy'd   a    man  whose  a  -  ged   step  Seem'd   wea  -  ry,  worn  with    care; 


His    face    was     fur-row'd  o'er  with  years,  And     hoa  -  ry    was    his      hair. 


WHEN  chill  November's  surly  blast 

Made  fields  and  forests  bare, 
One  ev'ning,  as  I  wander'd  forth, 

Along  the  banks  of  Ayr, 
I  spy'd  a  man  whose  aged  step 

Seem'd  weary,  worn  with  care  ; 
His  face  was  furrow1  d  o'erwithyears, 

And  hoary  was  his  hair. 

'  Young  stranger,  whither  wand'rest 
thou  ? ' 

Began  the  reverend  Sage  ; 
'  Does  thirst  of  wealth  thy  step  con- 
strain, 

Or  youthful  pleasures  rage  ? 
Or  haply,  prest  with  cares  and  woes, 

Too  soon  thou  hast  began 
To  wander  forth,  with  me  to  mourn 

The  miseries  of  man. 

*  The  sun  that  overhangs  yon  moors,* 

Outspreading  far  and  wide, 
Where    hundreds    labour    to    sup- 
port 
A  haughty  lordling's  pride  : — 


I've  seen  yon  weary  winter-sun 
Twice  forty  times  return  ; 

And  ev'ry  time  has  added  proofs, 
That  man  was  made  to  mourn. 

'  O  man  !  while  in  thy  early  years, 

How  prodigal  of  time  ! 
Mis-spending  all  thy  precious  hours, 

Thy  glorious,  youthful  prime  ! 
Alternate  follies  take  the  sway ; 

Licentious  passions  burn  ; 
Which  tenfold  force  gives  nature's 
law, 

That  man  was  made  to  mourn. 

'  Look  not  alone  on  youthful  prime, 

Or  manhood's  active  might ; 
Man  then  is  useful  to  his  kind, 

Supported  is  his  right : 
But  see  him  on  the  edge  of  life, 

With  cares  and  sorrows  worn  ; 
Then  age  and  want— O  ill-matched 
pair ! — 

Show  man  was  made  to  mourn. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


305 


'A  few  seem  favourites  of  fate, 

In  pleasure's  lap  carest ; 
Yet  think  not  all  the  rich  and  great 

Are  likewise  truly  blest ; 
But    oh  !    what    crowds    in    every 
land 

All  wretched  and  forlorn, 
Thro'  weary  life  this  lesson  learn, 

That  man  was  made  to  mourn. 

1  Many  and  sharp  the  num'rous  ills 

Inwoven  with  our  frame ! 
More  pointed  still  we  make  ourselves 

Regret,  remorse,  and  shame ! 
And  man,  whose  heav'n-erected  face 

The  smiles  of  love  adorn, — 
Man's  inhumanity  to  man 

Makes  countless  thousands  mourn  ! 

'See  yonder  poor,  o'erlabour'd  wight, 

So  abject,  mean,  and  vile, 
Who  begs  a  brother  of  the  earth 

To  give  him  leave  to  toil  ; 
And  see  his  lordly  fellow-worm 

The  poor  petition  spurn, 
Unmindful,  tho'  a  weeping  wife 

And  helpless  offspring  mourn. 


'  If  I'm  design'd  yon  lordling's  slave — 

By  Nature's  law  design'd — 
Why  was  an  independent  wish 

E'er  planted  in  my  mind? 
If  not,  why  am  I  subject  to 

His  cruelty,  or  scorn  ? 
Or  why  has  man  the  will  and  pow'r 

To  make  his  fellow  mourn  ? 

'Yet,  let  not  this  too  much,  my  son, 

Disturb  thy  youthful  breast ; 
This  partial  view  of  humankind 

Is  surely  not  the  last  I 
The  poor,  oppressed,  honest  man 

Had  never,  sure,  been  born, 
Had  there  not  been  some  recompense 

To  comfort  those  that  mourn. 

*  O  death !  the  poor  man's  dearest 
friend, 

The  kindest  and  the  best! 
Welcome  the  hour  my  aged  limbs 

Are  laid  with  thee  at  rest ! 
The  great,  the  wealthy  fear  thy  blow, 

From  pomp  and  pleasure  torn  ; 
But  oh  !  a  blest  relief  to  those 

That  weary-laden  mourn  ! ' 


I 


No.  325.    The  wintry  west  extends  his  blast. 

Tune:  MfPherson's  rant  (see  No.  311). 
THE  wintry  west  extends  his  blast, 

And  hail  and  rain  does  blaw  ; 
Or,  the  stormy  north  sends  driving  forth 

The  blinding  sleet  and  snaw  : 
While  tumbling  brown,  the  burn  comes  down, 

And  roars  frae  bank  to  brae  ; 
And  bird  and  beast  in  covert  rest, 

And  pass  the  weary  day. 

'The  sweeping  blast,  the  sky  o'ercast,' 

The  joyless  winter  day 
Let  others  fear,  to  me  more  dear 

Than  all  the  pride  of  May  : 
The  tempest's  howl  it  soothes  my  soul, 

My  griefs  it  seems  to  join  ; 
The  leafless  trees  my  fancy  please, 

Their  fate  resembles  mine. 


3o6 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


Thou  Power  Supreme  whose  mighty  scheme 

These  woes  of  mine  fulfil, 
Here  firm  I  rest,  they  must  be  best, 

Because  they  are   Thy  will ! 
Then  all  I  want — O  do  Thou  grant 

This  one  request  of  mine  ! — 
Since  to  enjoy  Thou  dost  deny, 

Assist  me  to  resign. 


No.  326.    But  lately  seen  in  gladsome  green. 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  486. 


Tune  :  East  Indian  air. 
Slwu 


But     late  -  ly     seen    in  gladsome  green,  The 


woods  re  -  joic'd  the 


day;    Thro'       gen-tie  show' rs  the  laughing  flow'rs  In  dou  -  ble  pride  were 

-     3  ,^3 


But  now  our    joys  are  fled     On     win  -  ter    blasts       a  -  wa,  Yet 


mai-denMay  in    rich    ar-ray       A 


gain    shall  bring  them  a'. 


BUT  lately  seen  in  gladsome  green, 

The  woods  rejoic'd  the  day ; 
Thro'  gentle  show'rs  the  laughing  flow'rs 

In  double  pride  were  gay  : 
But  now  our  joys  are  fled 

On  winter  blasts  awa, 
Yet  maiden  May  in  rich  array 

Again  shall  bring  them  a'. 

But  my  white  pow,  nae  kindly  thowe 

Shall  melt  the  snaws  of  age  ; 
My  trunk  of  eild,  but  buss  and  bield, 

Sinks  in  Time's  wintry  rage. 
O,  age  has  weary  days 

And  nights  o'  sleepless  pain  ! 
Thou  golden  time  o'  youthfu'  prime, 

Why  comes  thou  not  again  ? 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


307 


No.  327.    Wee   Willie  Gray. 

Tune  :  Wee  Totum  Fogg.         Scots  Musical  Museum^  1803,  No.  514. 
Cheerfully 


«7  r 


Wee  Wil  -  lie  Gray  and  his    lea-ther   wal  -  let,    Peel  a     wil  -  low  wand  to 


r>  IV      .       .       N     >          •       fr       .       N  V  r>.      v. 

be  him  boots  and  jack-et  :      The  rose    up  -  on    the  brier  will  be  him  trouse 

and  dou-blet,  The   rose    up  -  on    the  brier  will  be  him  trouse  and  dou-blet  ! 


WEE  Willie  Gray  and  his  leather  wallet, 

Peel  a  willow  wand  to  be  him  boots  and  jacket : 

The  rose  upon  the  brier  will  be  him  trouse  and  doublet, 

The  rose  upon  the  brier  will  be  him  trouse  and  doublet ! 

Wee  Willie  Gray  and  his  leather  wallet, 
Twice  a  lily  flower  will  be  him  sark  and  cravat ; 
Feathers  of  a  flie  wad  feather  up  his  bonnet — 
Feathers  of  a  flie  wad  feather  up  his  bonnet ! 


No.  328.    He  clench  d  his  pamphlets  in  his  fist. 

Tune  :  Killiecrankie  (see  No.  256). 


LORD   ADVOCATE. 

HE  clench'd  his  pamphlets  in  his  fist, 

He  quoted  and  he  hinted, 
Till  in  a  declamation-mist 

His  argument,  he  tint  it ; 
He  gaped  for't,  he  graped  for't, 

He  fand  it  was  awa,  man  ; 
But  what  his  common  sense  came  short , 

He  eked  out  wi'  law,  man. 


MR.  ERSKINE. 

Collected,  Harry  stood  awee, 

Then  open'd  out  his  arm,  man  ; 
His  lordship  sat,  wi1  ruefu1  e'e, 

And  ey'd  the  gath'ring  storm,  man : 
Like  wind-driv'n  hail  it  did  assail, 

Or  torrents  owre  a  linn,  man  ; 
The  Bench  sae  wise  lift  up  their  eyes, 

Half-wauken'd  wi1  the  din,  man. 


3o8 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  329.    Orthodox!  orthodox!  who,  believe  in 
John  Knox. 

Tune  :  Come,  let  us  prepare.         Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1730,  iii.  p.  72. 
Boldly 

-N 


Or-tho-dox!    or  •  tho-dox!  Wha    be-  lieve    in    John  Knox,  Let  me 


sound    an        a  -  larm    to    your    conscience—          A         her   -   e   -   tic    blast 


=#* 


Has  been  blawn   i'      the     wast,   That    '  What  is      not  sense  must   be     non 


-    sense ' :   Or  -  tho  -  dox  t  That  what     is      not  sense  must   be      non  -    sense. 


ORTHODOX  !  orthodox ! 

Wha  believe  in  John  Knox, 
Let  me  sound  an  alarm  to  your  conscience — 

A  heretic  blast 

Has  been  blawn  i'  the  wast, 
That  '  What  is  not  sense  must  be  nonsense  ' : 
Orthodox !     That  what  is  not  sense  must  be  nonsense. 

Doctor  Mac  !  Doctor  Mac  ! 

You  should  streek  on  a  rack, 
To  strike  evil-doers  wi'  terror  ; 

To  join  Faith  and  Sense, 

Upon  ony  pretence, 
Was  heretic,  damnable  error, 
Doctor  Mac — was  heretic,  damnable  error. 

Town  of  Ayr,  town  of  Ayr, 

It  was  mad,  I  declare, 
To  meddle  wi'  mischief  a-brewing ; 

Provost  John  is  still  deaf 

To  the  Church's  relief, 
And  Orator  Bob  is  its  ruin — 
Town  of  Ayr!  And  Orator  Bob  is  its  ruin. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  309 

D'rymple  mild,  DVymple  mild, 
Tho'  your  heart 's  like  a  child, 
And  your  life  like  the  new-driven  snaw  ; 
Yet  that  winna  save  ye, 
Auld  Satan  must  have  ye 
For  preaching  that  three 's  ane  and  twa — 
D'rymple  mild  !     For  preaching  that  three 's  ane  and  twa. 

Calvin's  sons,  Calvin's  sons, 

Scour  your  spiritual  guns, 
Ammunition  you  never  can  need  ; 

Your  hearts  are  the  stuff 

Will  be  powther  enough, 
And  your  skulls  are  a  storehouse  o'  lead — 
Calvin's  sons !     And  your  skulls  are  a  storehouse  o*  lead. 

Rumble  John  !  Rumble  John  ! 

Mount  the  steps  with  a  groan, 
Cry : — '  The  book  is  wi'  heresy  cramm'd  ' ; 

Then  out  wi'  your  ladle, 

Deal  brimstone  like  adle, 
And  roar  ev'ry  note  o'  the  damn'd — 
Rumble  John  !     And  roar  ev'ry  note  o'  the  damn'd. 

Simper  James  !    Simper  James, 

Leave  the  fair  Killie  dames^ 
There 's  a  holier  chase  in  your  view  ; 

I'll  lay  on  your  head 

That  the  pack  ye'll  soon  lead, 
For  puppies  like  you  there  's  but  few — 
Simper  James  !     For  puppies  like  you  there  's  but  few. 

Singet  Sawnie !    Singet  Sawnie, 

Are  ye  huirding  the  penny, 
Unconscious  what  evils  await  ? 

Wi'  a  jump,  yell,  and  howl, 

Alarm  ev'ry  soul, 

For  the  foul  thief  is  just  at  your  gates, 
Singet  Sawnie  !     For  the  foul  thief  is  just  at  your  gates. 

Poet  Willie  !    Poet  Willie, 

Gie  the  Doctor  a  volley, 
Wi'  your  '  Liberty's  chain '  and  your  wit ; 

O'er  Pegasus'  side 

Ye  ne'er  laid  a  stride, 

Ye  but  smelt,  man,  the  place  where  he  

Poet  Willie  !     Ye  but  smelt,  man,  the  place  where  he  


310      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

Barr  Steenie!   Barr  Steenie, 

What  mean  ye,  what  mean  ye  ? 
If  ye'll  meddle  nae  mair  wi'  the  matter, 

Ye  may  hae  some  pretence, 

To  havins  and  sense, 
Wi'  people  wha  ken  ye  nae  better — 
Barr  Steenie  !    Wi'  people  wha  ken  ye  nae  better. 

Jamie  Goose !  Jamie  Goose, 
Ye  hae  made  but  toom  roose, 
In  hunting  the  wicked  Lieutenant ; 
But  the  Doctor's  your  mark, 
For  the  Lord's  haly  ark 

He  has  cooper'd  and  ca'd  a  wrang  pin  in't, — 
Jamie  Goose  !     He  has  cooper'd  and  ca'd  a  wrang  pin  in't. 

Davie  Bluster  !     Davie  Bluster, 
For  a  saint  if  ye  muster, 
The  corps  is  no  nice  o'  recruits; 
Yet  to  worth  let 's  be  just, 
Royal  blood  ye  might  boast, 
If  the  Ass  were  the  king  o'  the  brutes, — 
Davie  Bluster!     If  the  Ass  were  the  king  o'  the  brutes. 

Cessnock  side  !    Cessnock  side, 
Wi'  your  turkey-cock  pride, 
Of  manhood  but  sma'  is  your  share  ; 
Ye've  the  figure,  'tis  true, 
Even  your  faes  will  allow, 
And  your  friends  daurna  say  ye  hae  mair — 
Cessnock  side  !     And  your  friends  daurna  say  ye  hae  mair. 

Muirland  Jock !  Muirland  Jock, 

Whom  the  Lord  gave  a  stock 
Wad  set  up  a  tinkler  in  brass, 

If  ill  manners  were  wit, 

There  's  no  mortal  so  fit 
To  prove  the  poor  Doctor  an  ass — 
Muirland  Jock !     To  prove  the  poor  Doctor  an  ass. 

Andro  Gouk !    Andro  Gouk, 
Ye  may  slander  the  Book, 
And  the  Book  not  the  waur,  let  me  tell  ye  ; 
Tho'  ye're  rich,  and  look  big, 
Yet,  lay-by  hat  and  wig, 
And  ye'll  hae  a  calfs  head  o'  sma'  value — 
Andro  Gouk!     And  ye'll  hae  a  calfs  head  o'  sma'  value. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  311 

Daddy  Auld  !    Daddy  Auld, 
There  's  a  tod  in  the  fauld, 
A  tod  meikle  waur  than  the  clerk  ; 
Though  ye  do  little  skaith, 
Ye'll  be  in  at  the  death, 
And  gif  ye  canna  bite,  ye  may  bark, 
Daddy  Auld !     And  gif  ye  canna  bite,  ye  may  bark. 

Holy  Will,  Holy  Will, 

There  was  wit  in  your  skull 
When  ye  pilfer'd  the  alms  o'  the  poor ; 

The  timmer  is  scant, 

When  ye're  taen  for  a  saunt, 
Wha  should  swing  in  a  rape  for  an  hour — 
Holy  Will !     Wha  should  swing  in  a  rape  for  an  hour. 

Poet  Burns!    Poet  Burns, 

Wi'  your  priest-skelping  turns, 
Why  desert  ye  your  auld  native  shire  ? 

Your  Muse  is  a  gipsy — 

E'en  tho'  she  were  tipsy, 
She  could  ca'  us  nae  waur  than  we  are, — 
Poet  Burns !     Ye  could  ca'  us  nae  waur  than  we  are. 

PRESENTATION   VERSES   TO   CORRESPONDENTS. 

Factor  John  !    Factor  John, 

Whom  the  Lord  made  alone, 
And  ne'er  made  anither,  thy  peer, 

Thy  poor  servant,  the  Bard, 

In  respectful  regard, 
He  presents  thee  this  token  sincere, 
Factor  John  !     He  presents  thee  this  token  sincere. 

Afton's  Laird !    Afton's  Laird, 
When  your  pen  can  be  spar'd, 
A  copy  of  this  I  bequeath, 

On  the  same  sicker  score 
As  I  mention'd  before, 
To  that  trusty  auld  worthy,  Clackleith, 
Afton's  Laird !     To  that  trusty  auld  worthy,  Clackleith. 


No.  330.   Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare. 

Tune  :  Chevy  Chase  (see  No.  267  or  274). 

PEG  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare 

As  ever  trod  on  airn ; 
But  now  she's  floating  down  the  Nith, 
And  past  the  mouth  o'  Cairn. 


•312 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare, 
An'  rode  thro'  thick  an'  thin  ; 

But  now  she's  floating  down  the  Nith, 
And  wanting  even  the  skin. 

Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare, 

And  ance  she  bore  a  priest ; 
But  now  she  's  floating  down  the  Nith, 

For  Solway  fish  a  feast. 

Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare, 
An'  the  priest  he  rode  her  sair ; 

And  much  oppress'd,  and  bruis'd  she  was, 
As  priest-rid  cattle  are ! 


No.  331.    There  lived  a  carl  in  Keliyburn  braes. 

Tune  :  Keliyburn  braes.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  379. 
'Briskly 


There      liv  -  ed     a      carl       in       Kel  -  ly  -  burn  braes,   (Hey    and  the 


rue    grows  bon  -  ie  wi'  thyme),  And  he    had    a    wife  was    the  plague  o' 


his  days  (And  the  thyme     it      is     with-er'd,     and     rue       is     in    prime). 

THERE  lived  a  carl  in  Keliyburn  braes, 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi*  thyme), 

And  he  had  a  wife  was  the  plague  o'  his  days 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

Ae  day  as  the  carl  gaed  up  the  lang  glen, 
(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 

He  met  wi'  the  devil,  says  : — '  How  do  you  fen  ? ' 
(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

'  Tve  got  a  bad  wife,  sir  :   that 's  a'  my  complaint 
(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 

For,  saving  your  presence,  to  her  ye're  a  saint ' 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  313 

'  It 's  neither  your  stot  nor  your  staig  I  shall  crave 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
But  gie  me  your  wife,  man,  for  her  I  must  have' 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

'  Oh  !   welcome,  most  kindly,'  the  blythe  carl  said 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
'But  if  ye  can  match  her, — ye' re  waur  than  ye're  ca'd' 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

The  devil  has  got  the  auld  wife  on  his  back 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
And,  like  a  poor  pedlar,  he  's  carried  his  pack 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

He  's  carried  her  hame  to  his  ain  hallan-door 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
Syne  bade  her  gae  in  for  a  bitch  and  a  whore 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

Then  straight  he  makes  fifty,  the  pick  o'  his  band 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
Turn  out  on  her  guard  in  the  clap  o'  a  hand 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

The  .carlin  gaed  thro'  them  like  ony  wud  bear 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme)  : 
Whae'er  she  gat  hands  on  cam  near  her  nae  mair 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

A  reekit  wee  deevil  looks  over  the  wa' 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme)  : 
'  O,  help,  master,  help !    or  she'll  ruin  us  a' ! ' 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

The  devil  he  swore  by  the  edge  o'  his  knife 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
He  pitied  the  man  that  was  tied  to  a  wife 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 

The  devil  he  swore  by  the  kirk  and  the  bell 

(Hey  and  the  rue 'grows  bonie  wi'  thyme). 
He  was  not  in  wedlock,  thank  Heaven,  but  in  hell 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 
Then  Satan  has  travell'd  again  wi'  his  pack 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
And  to  her  auld  husband  he's  carried  her  back 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 
'  I  hae  been  a  devil  the  feck  o'  my  life 

(Hey  and  the  rue  grows  bonie  wi'  thyme), 
But  ne'er  was  in  hell  till  I  met  wi'  a  wife 

(And  the  thyme  it  is  wither'd,  and  rue  is  in  prime). 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  332.    There  was  three  kings  into  the  east. 

Tune  :  Lull  me  beyond  thee.         Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1670,  p.  148. 

Smoothly 


ss 


There  was  three    kings        in    -    to         the  east,  Three  kings  both    great 


3 


s 


and  high;      And    they    hae       sworn        a  so    -    lemn    oath   John 


s^s 


Bar  -  ley  -   corn    should        die.         They    took      a      plough    and    plough'd 


m 


him  down,    Put     clods     up    -    on         his         head;          And         they      hae 


e 


s 


sworn       a  so    -   lemn  oath    John   Bar  -  ley   -    corn      was       dead. 


THERE  was  three  kings  into  the  east, 
Three  kings  both  great  and  high  ; 

And  they  hae  sworn  a  solemn  oath 
John  Barleycorn  should  die. 

They  took  a  plough  and  plough'd  him 
down, 

Put  clods  upon  his  head  ; 
And  they  hae  sworn  a  solemn  oath 

John  Barleycorn  was  dead. 

But  the  cheerful  Spring  came  kindly 
And  show'rs  began  to  fall ;       [on, 

John  Barleycorn  got  up  again, 
And  sore  surprised  them  all. 

The  sultry  suns  of  Summer  came, 
And  he  grew  thick  and  strong  ; 

His   head   weel   arm'd   wi'   pointed 

spears, 
That  no  one  should  him  wrong. 


The  sober  Autumn  entered  mild, 
When  he  grew  wan  and  pale  ; 

His    bending   joints    and    drooping 

head 
Show'd  he  began  to  fail. 

His  colour  sicken'd  more  and  more, 

He  faded  into  age  ; 
An,d  then  his  enemies  began 

To  show  their  deadly  rage. 

They've  taen  a  weapon  long  and 
sharp, 

And  cut  him  by  the  knee  ; 
Then  tied  him  fast  upon  a  cart, 

Like  a  rogue  for  forgerie. 

They  laid  him  down  upon  his  back, 
And  cudgellM  him  full  sore  ; 

They  hung  him  up  before  the  storm, 
And  turn'd  him  o'er  and  o'er. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


3T5 


They  filled  up  a  darksome  pit 

With  water  to  the  brim  ; 
They  heaved  in  John  Barleycorn, — 

There,  let  him  sink  or  swim  ! 

They  laid  him  out  upon  the  floor, 
To  work  him  farther  woe  ; 

And  still,  as  signs  of  life  appear'd 
They  toss'd  him  to  and  fro. 

They  wasted  o'er  a  scorching  flame 
The  marrow  of  his  bones ; 

But  a  miller  used  him  worst  of  all, 
For  he   crush'd  him  'tween   two 
stones. 

And  they  hae  taen  his  very  heart's 

blood, 
And  drank  it  round  and  round, 


And  still  the  more  and  more  they 

drank, 
Their  joy  did  more  abound. 

John  Barleycorn  was  a  hero  bold, 

Of  noble  enterprise ; 
For  if  you  do  but  taste  his  blood, 

'Twill  make  your  courage  rise. 

'Twill  make  a  man  forget  his  woe  ; 

'Twill  heighten  all  his  joy  : 
'Twill  make   the  widow's   heart  to 
sing, 

Tho'  the  tear  were  in  her  eye. 

Then  let  us  toast  John  Barleycorn 
Each  man  a  glass  in  hand  ; 

And  may  his  great  posterity 
Ne'er  fail  in  old  Scotland  ! 


No.  333.    When  Januar   wind  was  blawin  cauld. 

Tune :  The  lass  that  made  the  bed  to  me.      Scots  Musical  Mus.  1796,  No.  448. 


me        en  -  fauld, 


WHEN  Januar'  wind  was  blawin  cauld, 

As  to  the  north  I  took  my  way, 
The  mirksome  night  did  me  enfauld, 

I  knew  na  where  to  lodge  till  day. 
By  my  gude  luck  a  maid  I  met 

Just  in  the  middle  o'  my  care ; 
And  kindly  she  did  me  invite 

To  walk  into  a  chamber  fair. 
I  bow'd  fu'  low  unto  this  maid, 

And  thank'd  her  for  her  courtesie ; 
I  bow'd  fu'  low  unto  this  maid, 

An'  bade  her  mak  a  bed  to  me. 


316      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

She  made  the  bed  baith  large  and  wide, 
Wi'  twa  white  hands  she  spread  it  doun, 

She  put  the  cup  to  her  rosy  lips, 

And  drank  : — '  Young  man,  now  sleep  ye  soun' 

She  snatch'd  the  candle  in  her  hand, 
And  frae  my  chamber  went  wi'  speed  ; 

But  I  call'd  her  quickly  back  again, 
To  lay  some  mair  below  my  head. 

A  cod  she  laid  below  my  head, 
And  served  me  with  due  respeck, 

And,  to  salute  her  wi'  a  kiss, 
I  put  my  arms  about  her  neck. 

*  Haud  aff  your  hands,  3Toung  man,'  she  said, 

'  And  dinna  sae  uncivil  be  ; 
Gif  ye  hae  onie  luve  for  me, 

O,  wrang  na  my  virginitie  ! ' 

Her  hair  was  like  the  links  o'  gowd, 

Her  teeth  were  like  the  ivorie, 
Her  cheeks  like  lilies  dipt  in  wine, 

The  lass  that  made  the  bed  to  me  ! 

Her  bosom  was  the  driven  snaw, 
Twa  drifted  heaps  sae  fair  to  see  ; 

Her  limbs  the  polish'd  marble  stane, 
The  lass  that  made  the  bed  to  me! 

I  kiss'd  her  o'er  and  o'er  again, 
And  ay  she  wist  na  what  to  say ; 

I  laid  her  'tween  me  an'  the  wa' — 
The  lassie  thocht  na  lang  till  day. 

Upon  the  morrow,  when  we  raise, 
I  thank'd  her  for  her  courtesie, 

But  ay  she  blush'd,  and  ay  she  sigh'd, 
And  said: — 'Alas,  ye've  ruin'd  me!' 

I  clasp'd  her  waist,  and  kiss'd  her  syne, 

While  the  tear  stood  twinkling  in  her  e'e  ; 
I  said: — 'My  lassie,  dinna  cry, 

For  ye  ay  shall  mak  the  bed  to  me.' 
She  took  her  mither's  Holland  sheets, 

An'  made  them  a'  in  sarks  to  me  ; 
Blythe  and  merry  may  she  be, 

The  lass  that  made  the  bed  to  me! 

The  bonie  lass  made  the  bed  to  me, 
The  braw  lass  made  the  bed  to  me  ; 

I'll  ne'er  forget,  till  the  day  I  die, 
The  lass  that  made  the  bed  to  me  ! 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


317 


No.  334.    O,  Lady  Mary  Ann. 

Tune  :  Lady  Mary  Ann.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  377. 
Moderately 


33= 


O,        La    -    dy       Ma  -   ry        Ann         looks         o'er    the      cas  -  tie 


wa',      She 


three    bon    -    ie        boys         play  -  ing      at       the 


ba',     The     young -est     he       was      the         flower    a  -  mang    them 


My          bon  -  ie        lad  -  die  's  young,  but   he  's     grow    -    in  yet. 


[O,  LADY  Mary  Ann  looks  o'er  the  castle  wa', 
She  saw  three  bonie  boys  playing  at  the  ba', 
The  youngest  he  was  the  flower  amang  them  a' — 
My  bonie  laddie 's  young,  but  he  's  growin  yet. 

<  O  father,  O  father,  an  ye  think  it  fit, 
We'll  send  him  a  year  to  the  college  yet ; 
We'll  sew  a  green  ribbon  round  about  his  hat, 
And  that  will  let  them  ken  he's  to  marry  yet.'] 

Lady  Mary  Ann  was  a  flower  in  the  dew, 
Sweet  was  its  smell,  and  bonie  was  its  hue, 
And  the  longer  it  blossom'd  the  sweeter  it  grew, 
For  the  lily  in  the  bud  will  be  bonier  yet. 

Young  Charlie  Cochran  was  the  sprout  of  an  aik  ; 
Bonie  and  bloomin  and  straught  was  its  make, 
The  sun  took  delight  to  shine  for  its  sake, 
And  it  will  be  the  brag  o*  the  forest  yet. 

The  simmer  is  gane  when  the  leaves  they  were  green, 
And  the  days  are  awa  that  we  hae  seen  ; 
But  far  better  days  I  trust  will  come  again, 

For  my  bonie  laddie's  young,  but  he's  growin  yet 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  335.    There  livd  a  man  in  yonder  glen! 

Tune  :  Johnie  Blunt.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  365. 
Gaily 


m 


s 


There      liv'd      a      man       in  yon    -   der      glen,     And      John    Blunt 


i 


was  his       name,        O ;      He          maks        gude     maut,     and       he 


brews      gude   ale,  And     he       bears        a          won  -  drous    fame,        O. 


THERE  liv'd  a  man  in  yonder  glen, 

And  John  Blunt  was  his  name,  O  ; 
He  maks  gude  maut,  and  he  brews  gude  ale, 

And  he  bears  a  wondrous  fame,  O. 

The  wind  blew  in  the  hallan  ae  night, 

Fu'  snell  out  o'er  the  moor,  O  ; 
*  Rise  up,  rise  up,  auld  Luckie,'  he  says, 

*  Rise  up  and  bar  the  door,  O  ; ' 

They  made  a  paction  'tween  them  twa, 

They  made  it  firm  and  sure,  O, 
Whae'er  sud  speak  the  foremost  word, 

Should  rise  and  bar  the  door,  O. 

Three  travellers  that  had  tint  their  gate, 

As  thro'  the  hills  they  foor,  O  ; 
They  airted  by  the  line  o'  light 

Fu'  straught  to  Johnie  Blunt's  door,  O. 

They  haurl'd  auld  Luckie  out  o'  her  bed, 

And  laid  her  on  the  floor,  O ; 
But  never  a  word  auld  Luckie  wad  say, 

For  barrin  o'  the  door,  O. 

'  Ye've  eaten  my  bread,  ye  hae  druken  my  ale, 
And  ye'll  mak  my  auld  wife  a  whore,  O,' — 

'  Aha !  Johnie  Blunt !  ye  hae  spoke  the  first  word,- 
Get  up  and  bar  the  door,  O.' 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


No.  336.    Upon  the  Lomonds  I  lay,  I  lay. 

Tune :  The  Campbells  are  comin.         Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1790,  No.  299. 
Briskly 


-N- 


CHORUS.        The  Campbells   are    com  -  /«,     O   -    ho!       O  -  ho!     The     Campbells 


com  -in,       O    -    ho!       O  -  ho!    The    Campbells  are  com  -  in      to 

Fine. 


-  ie    Loch  -  lev  -  en^  The  Campbells  are  com  -in,      O   -   ho!    O  -   ho! 


Up  -  on      the   Lo-monds  I       lay,       I        lay,       Up  -  on      the    Lo-monds 


I         lay,         I      lay,        I  look    -    ed        down        to         bon    -    ie 


Loch  •  Ie    -    ven  And         saw        three        bon     -     ie        perch  -  es     play. 


CHORUS.     The  Campbells  are  comin,  Oho!  Oho! 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  Oho!  Oho! 

The  Campbells  are  comin  to  bonie  Lochleven, 

The  Campbells  are  comin ,  Oho !  Oho  ! 

UPON  the  Lomonds  I  lay,  I  lay, 

Upon  the  Lomonds  I  lay,  I  lay, 
I  looked  down  to  bonie  Lochleven 

And  saw  three  bonie  perches  play. 

Great  Argyle  he  goes  before  ; 

He  maks  his  cannons  and  guns  to  roar, 
Wi'  sound  o'  trumpet,  pipe  and  drum  ; 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  Oho!  Oho! 

The  Campbells  they  are  a'  in  arms, 

Their  loyal  faith  and  truth  to  show, 
Wi'  banners  rattling  in  the  wind, 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  Oho !  Oho ! 


320 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  337.     Two,  bonie  lads  were  Sandy  and  Jockie. 

Tune  :  Jenny's  lamentation.     Bickham's  Musical  Entertainer,  1737,  i.  p.  59. 

Moderately 


ps 


Twa  bon  -  ie     lads     were    San  -  dy    and    Jock    -    ie,          Jock  -  ie    wj 


lo'ed     but     San  -  dy     un    -    luck    -    y,         Jock  -  ie     was    laird  baith    of 

*=*= 


hills    and    of       val  -  lies,    But     San  -  dy    was   nought  but     the      king     o' 


gude      fel    •    lows.       Jock  -  ie     lo'ed  Madg  -  ie,      for    Madg  -  ie      had      mo 


fc 


-I h- 

ney,  And    San  -  dy    lo'ed     Ma   -    ry    for      Ma  -  ry    was       bon  -  ie,     Ane 


wed  -  ded        for  love,  Ane        wed  -   ded        for         trea  -  sure, 


ry^+T+-^ 


9 

So     Jock  -  ie        had      sil  -  ler       and     San  -  dy     had     plea    -    sure. 

TWA  bonie  lads  were  Sandy  and  Jockie, 

Jockie  was  lo'ed  but  Sandy  unlucky, 

Jockie  was  laird  baith  of  hills  and  of  vallies, 

But  Sandy  was  nought  but  the  king  o'  gude  fellows. 

Jockie  lo'ed  Madgie,  for  Madgie  had  money, 

And  Sandy  lo'ed  Mary  for  Mary  was  bonie, 

Ane  wedded  for  love,  ane  wedded  for  treasure, 

So  Jockie  had  siller  and  Sandy  had  pleasure. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


321 


No.  338.    Its  up  wi    the  Souters  d  Selkirk. 

Tune  :  The  Souters  o"  Selkirk.         Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730,  p.  28. 


Briskly 


Its      up    wi*    the      Sou  -  ters       o'       Sel-kirk,  And    down      wi'       the 


m 


of    Hume,  And    here      is          to         a'       the      braw  lad  -  dies 


1 


That     wear       the     sin  -  gle-sol'd  shoon.     Its     up    wi'      the        Sou-ters  o' 


Sel  -  kirk,  For  they  are    baith        trus   -    ty  and    leal,  And     up    wi'       the 


£S 


lads          o'        the     for  -  est,    And  down  wi'     the  Merse    to      the      deil ! 

ITS  up  wi'  the  Souters  o'  Selkirk, 

And  down  wi'  the  Earl  of  Hume, 
And  here  is  to  a'  the  braw  laddies 

That  wear  the  single-sol'd  shoon. 
Its  up  wi'  the  Souters  o'  Selkirk, 

For  they  are  baith  trusty  and  leal, 
And  up  wi'  the  lads  o'  the  Forest, 

And  down  wi'  the  Merse  to  the  deil! 


No.  339.    Oiir  lords  are  to  the  mountains  gane. 

Tune  :  Druimionn  dubh  (see  No.  32). 

OUR  lords  are  to  the  mountains  gane, 

A  hunting  o'  the  fallow  deer ; 
And  they  hae  gripit  Hughie  Graham, 

For  stealing  o'  the  bishop's  mare. 


322      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

And  they  hae  tied  him  hand  and  foot, 
And  led  him  up  thro'  Stirling  town  ; 

The  lads  and  lassies  met  him  there, 
Cried  l  Hughie  Graham  thou  art  a  loun.' 

'  O  lowse  my  right  hand  free,'  he  says, 

.  '  And  put  my  braid  sword  in  the  same, 
He's  no  in  Stirling  town  this  day, 
Daur  tell  the  tale  to  Hughie  Graham.' 

Up  then  bespake  the  brave  Whitefoord, 
As  he  sat  by  the  bishop's  knee ; 

1  Five  hundred  white  stots  I'll  gie  you, 
If  ye'll  let  Hughie  Graham  gae  free.' 

'  O  haud  your  tongue,'  the  bishop  says, 
'  And  wi'  your  pleading  let  me  be ; 

For  tho'  ten  Grahams  were  in  his  coat, 
Hughie  Graham  this  day  shall  die.' 

Up  then  bespake  the  fair  Whitefoord, 
As  she  sat  by  the  bishop's  knee, 

'Five  hundred  white  pence  I'll  gie  you, 
If  ye'll  gie  Hughie  Graham  to  me.' 

'  O  haud  your  tongue  now  lady  fair, 
And  wi'  your  pleading  let  it  be ; 

Altho'  ten  Grahams  were  in  his  coat, 
It's  for  my  honor  he  maun  die.' 

They've  taen  him  to  the  gallows  knowe, 
He  looked  to  the  gallows  tree, 

Yet  never  color  left  his  cheek, 
Nor  ever  did  he  blin'  his  e'e. 

At  length  he  looked  round  about, 
To  see  whatever  he  could  spy, 

And  there  he  saw  his  auld  father, 
And  he  was  weeping  bitterly. 

'  O  haud  your  tongue,  my  father  dear 

And  wi'  your  weeping  let  it  be ; 
*  For  tho'  they  rob  me  o'  my  life, 
They  cannot  o'  the  Heaven  hie. 

And  ye  may  gie  my  brother  John 

My  sword  that's  bent  in  the  middle  clear, 
And  let  him  come  at  twelve  o'clock, 
And  see  me  pay  the  bishop's  mare. 


*  Variation  in  Museum:  'Thy  weeping's  sairer  on  my  heart 
Than  a'  that  they  can  do  to  me.' 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


323 


'And  ye  may  gie  my  brother  James 

My  sword  that's  bent  in  the  middle  brown, 

And  bid  him  come  at  four  o-'clock, 
And  see  his  brother  Hugh  cut  down. 

1  Remember  me  to  Maggy,  my  wife, 
The  niest  time  ye  gang  o'er  the  moor, 

Tell  her  she  staw  the  bishop's  mare, 
Tell  her  she  was  the  bishop's  whore. 

'  And  ye  may  tell  my  kith  and  kin 
I  never  did  disgrace  their  blood  ; 

And  when  they  meet  the  bishop's  cloak, 
To  make  it  shorter  by  the  hood.' 


No.  340.   As  I  cam  down  by  yon  Castle  wa. 


Tune  :  As  I  cam  down,  &c. 
Slow 


Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  326. 


in      by   yon      gar   -   den        green,  O,      there    I    spied     a    bon  -  ie, 


bon  •  ie         lass,        But      the    flower  -  bor  -  ders    were       us        be  -  tween. 

As  I  cam  down  by  yon  castle  wa', 

And  in  by  yon  garden  green, 
O,  there  I  spied  a  bonie,  bonie  lass, 

But  the  flower-borders  were  us  between. 

A  bonie,  bonie  lassie  she  was, 

As  ever  mine  eyes  did  see  : 
'  O,  five  hundred  pounds  would  I  give, 

For  to  have  such  a  pretty  bride  as  thee.' 

'  To  have  such  a  pretty  bride  as  me, 

Young  man  ye  are  sairly  mistaen ; 
Tho'  ye  were  king  o*  fair  Scotland, 

I  wad  disdain  to  be  your  queen.' 
Y  a 


324 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


'Talk  not  so  very  high,  bonie  lass, 
O  talk  not  so  very,  very  high  : 

The  man- at  the  fair  that  wad  sell, 

He  maun  learn  at  the  man  that  wad  buy. 

*  I  trust  to  climb  a  far  higher  tree, 

And  herry  a  far  richer  nest : 
Tak  this  advice  o'  me  bonie  lass, 

Humility  wad  set  thee  best.' 


No.  341.    O,  where  hae  ye  been  Lord  Ronald, 
my  son  ? 

Tune  :  Lord  Ronald,  my  son.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  327. 
Very  slow 


m 


^^ 


O,     where  hae         ye  been,      Lord    Ron  -  aid,      my  son  ? 


m 


-s- 


^ 


O,      where    hae       ye 


been,  Lord      Ron   -    aid,  my 


son?'    'I     hae    been  wi'      my        sweet-heart,    mo-ther,  make  my       bed 


soon,    For  I'm   wea  -  ry    wi'  the     hunt-ing,  and      fain   wad       lie         down.' 


'  O,  WHERE  hae  ye  been  Lord  Ronald,  my  son  ? 

O,  where  hae  ye  been  Lord  Ronald,  my  son?' 

'  I  hae  been  wi'  my  sweetheart,  mother,  make  my  bed  soon, 

For  I'm  weary  wi'  the  hunting,  and  fain  wad  lie  down.1 

'  What  got  ye  frae  your  sweetheart,  Lord  Ronald,  my  son  ? 
What  got  ye  frae  your  sweetheart,  Lord  Ronald,  my  son?' 
'  I  hae  got  deadly  poison,   mother,  make  my  bed  soon, 
For  life  is  a  burden  that  soon  I'll  lay  down.' 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


325 


No.  342.    As  I  went  out  ae  May  morning. 

Tune  :  As  I  went  out,  &>c.        Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  397. 
Lively 


m 


As       I     went     out        ae          May     morn  -  ing,        A      May     morn 


^g 


weel  -   far'd    maid,     Cam      lin    -    kin        o'er      the         lea      to 

As  I  went  out  ae  May  morning, 
A  May  morning  it  chanc'd  to  be ; 

There  I  was  aware  of  a  weel-far'd  maid, 
Cam  linkin  o'er  the  lea  to  me. 

O,  but  she  was  a  weel-far'd  maid, 

The  boniest  lass  that's  under  the  sun; 

I  spier'd  gin  she  could  fancy  me, 

But  her  answer  was,   '  I  am  too  young. 

'To  be  your  bride  I  am  too  young, 
To  be  your  loun  wad  shame  my  kin, 

So  therefore  pray  young  man  begone, 

For  you  never,  never  shall  my  favour  win.' 

But  amang  yon  birks  and  hawthorns  green, 
Where  roses  blaw  and  woodbines  hing, 

O,  there  I  learn'd  my  bonie  lass, 

That  she  was  not  a  single  hour  too  young. 

The  lassie  blush'd,  the  lassie  sigh'd, 

And  the  tear  stood  twinklin  in  her  e'e  ; 

'  O  kind  Sir,  since  ye  hae  done  me  this  wrang, 
It's  pray  when  will  ye  marry  me.' 

'  It 's  of  that  day  tak  ye  nae  heed, 
For  that 's  a  day  ye  ne'er  shall  see  ; 

For  ought  that  pass'd  between  us  twa, 
Ye  had  your  share  as  weel  as  me.' 

She  wrang  her  hands,  she  tore  her  hair, 

She  cried  out  most  bitterlie, 
'O,  what  will  I  say  to  my  niammie 

When  I  gae  hame  wi'  a  fause  storie.' 


326 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


'  O,  as  ye  maut,  so  maun  ye  brew, 

And  as  ye  brew,  so  maun  ye  tun  : 
But  come  to  my  arms,  my  ae  bonie  lass, 

For  ye  never  shall  rue  what  ye  now  hae  done. 


No.  343.    There  was  a  battle  in  the  north. 

Tune  :  A  country  lass.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  346. 


There  was     a    bat  -  tie        in    the  north,  And  nobles  there  was  many,      And 

tr 


they  hae  kill'd      Sir        Char-lie  Hay,  And  they  laid  the  wyte    on    Geor-die. 


THERE  was  a  battle  in  the  north, 

And  no"bles  there  was  many, 
And  they  hae  kill'd  Sir  Charlie  Hay, 

And  they  laid  the  wyte  on  Geordie. 

O,  he  has  written  a  lang  letter — 

He  sent  it  to  his  lady  : — 
,'Ye  maun  cum  up  to  Enbrugh  town 

To  see  what  words  o'  Geordie.' 

When  first  she  look'd  the  letter  on, 

She  was  baith  red  and  rosy  ; 
But  she  had  na  read  a  word  but  twa, 

Till  she  wallow't  like  a  lily. 

'Gar  get  to  me  my  gude  grey  steed, 

My  menzie  a'  gae  wi'  me  ; 
For  I  shall  neither  eat  nor. drink 

Till  Enbrugh  town  shall  see  me.' 

And  she  has  mountit  her  gude  grey  steed, 

Her  menzie  a'  gaed  wi'  her  ; 
And  she  did  neither  eat  nor  drink 

Till  Enbrugh  town  did  see  her. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  327 

And  first  appear' d  the  fatal  block, 

And  syne  the  aix  to  head  him, 
And  Geordie  comin  down  the  stair 

And  bands  o'  airn  upon  him. 

But  tho'  he  was  chain'd  in  fetters  strang 

O'  airn  and  steel  sae  heavy, 
There  was  na  ane  in  a'  the  court 

Sae  bra'  a  man  as  Geordie. 

O,  she's  down  on  her  bended  knee, 

I  wat  she  's  pale  and  weary ; 
'O  pardon,  pardon,  noble  king 

And  gie  me  back  my  Dearie ! 

'  I  hae  born  seven  sons  to  my  Geordie  dear 

-  The  seventh  ne'er  saw  his  daddie  : 
O,  pardon,  pardon,  noble  king, 
Pity  a  waefu'  lady  1 ' 

1  Gar  bid  the  headin-man  mak  haste  ! ' 

Our  king  reply'd  fu1  lordly  : 
'  O  noble  king,  tak  a'  that 's  mine 

But  gie  me  back  my  Geordie.1 

The  Gordons  cam  and  the  Gordons  ran 

And  they  were  stark  and  steady  ; 
And  ay  the  word  amang  them  a', 

Was,   '  Gordons  keep  you  ready.* 

An  aged  lord  at  the  king's  right  hand 

Says  :    '  Noble  king,  but  hear  me : — 
Gar  her  tell  down  five  thousand  pound, 

And  gie  her  back  her  Dearie.' 

Some  gae  her  marks,  some  gae  her  crowns, 

Some  gae  her  dollars  many  ; 
And  she  's  tell'd  down  five  thousand  pound, 

And  she  's  gotten  again  her  Dearie. 

She  blinkit  blythe  in  her  Geordie's  face, 

Says  :   '  Dear  I've  bought  thee,  Geordie, 
But  there  sud  been  bluidy  bouks  on  the  green 

Or  I  had  tint  my  laddie.' 

He  claspit  her  by  the  middle  sma,' 

And  he  kist  her  lips  sae  rosy, 
'The  fairest  flower  o'  woman-kind 

Is  my  sweet  bonie  Lady.' 


328 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  344.    O,  I  forbid  you  maidens  a. 

Tune  :  Tarn  Lin.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  411. 
•Andante 


O,           I     for  -  bid  you    mai-dens    a',  That  wear  gowd  on  your  hair, 
TC fri 


To    come    or     gae     by    Car  -  ter-haugh,  For  young  Tarn  Lin      is    there. 


'O,  I  FORBID  you  maidens  a', 
That  wear  gowd  on  your  hair, 

To  come  or  gae  by  Carterhaugh, 
For  young  Tarn  Lin  is  there. 

There 's  nane  that  gaes  by  Carterhaugh 
But  they  leave  him  a  wad  ; 

Either  their  rings,  or  green  mantles, 
Or  else  their  maidenhead.  • 

Janet  has  belted  her  green  kirtle 
A  little  aboon  her  knee  ; 

And  she  has  broded  her  yellow  hair 
A  little  aboon  her  bree  ; 

And  she's  awa  to  Carterhaugh 
As  fast  as  she  can  hie ! 

But  when  she  cam  to  Carterhaugh, 
Tarn  Lin  was  at  the  well, 

And  there  she  fand  his  steed  stand- 
ing, 
But  away  was  himsel. 

She  hadna  pu'd  a  double  rose, 

A-  rose  but  only  twae, 
Till  up  then  started  young  Tarn  Lin 

Says,  '  Lady  thou  's  pu'  nae  mae. 

'Why  pu's  thou  the  rose,  Janet, 
And  why  breaks  thou  the  wand  ! 

Or,   why    comes    thou    to    Carter- 
haugh 
Withoutten  my  command?' 

'  Carterhaugh  it  is  my  ain  ; 

My  daddie  gave  it  me, 
I'll  come  and  gang  by  Carterhaugh, 

And  ask  nae  leave  at  thee.' 


Janet  has  kilted  her  green  kirtle 

A  little  aboon  her  knee, 
And  she  has  snooded  her  yellow  hair 

A  little  aboon  her  bree, 
And  she  is  to  her  father's  ha' 

As  fast  as  she  can  hie. 

Four  and  twenty  ladies  fair 
Were  playing  at  the  ba', 

And  out  then  cam  the  fair  Janet 
Ance  the  flower  amang  them  a'. 

Four  and  twenty  ladies  fair 
Were  playing  at  the  chess, 

And  out  then  cam  the  fair  Janet 
As  green  as  ony  glass. 

Out  then  spak  an  auld  grey  knight 
Lay  o'er  the  castle  wa'  ; 

And  says:  '  Alas  !  fair  Janet  for  thee 
But  we'll  be  blamed  a'.' 

'  Haud  your  tongue,  ye  auld   fac'd 
knight, 

Some  ill  death  may  ye  die, 
Father  my  bairn  on-  whom  I  will, 

I'll  father  nane  on  thee.' 

Out  then  spak  her  father  dear, 
And  he  spak  meek  and  mild, 

*  And  ever  alas !    Sweet  Janet,'  he 

says — 
'I  think  thou  gaes  wi'  child.' 

1  If  that  I  gae  wi'  child,  father, 
Mysel  maun  bear  the  blame, 

There  's  ne'er  a  laird  about  your  ha', 
Shall  get  the  bairn's  name. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


329 


'  If  my  love  were  an  earthly  knight, 

As  he  's  an  elfin  gray, 
I  wadna  gie  my  ain  true-love 

For  nae  lord  that  ye  hae. 

'  The  steed  that  my  true-love  rides  on 
Is  lighter  than  the  wind  ; 

Wi'  siller  he  is  shod  before, 
Wi'  burning  gowd  behind/ 

Janet  has  kilted  her  green  kirtle 
A  little  aboon  her  knee  ; 

And  she  has  snooded  her  yellow  hair 
A  little  aboon  her  bree ; 

And  she's  awa  to  Carterhaugh 
As  fast  as  she  can  hie. 

When  she  cam  to  Carterhaugh, 
Tarn  Lin  was  at  the  well ; 

And  there  she  fand  his  steed  standing, 
But  away  was  himsel. 

She  hadna  pu1d  a  double  rose, 

A  rose  but  only  twae ; 
Till  up  then  started  young  Tarn  Lin 

Says,  '  Lady  thou  's  pu'  nae  mae. 

'  Why  pu's  thou  the  rose,  Janet, 
Amang  the  groves  sae  green, 

And  a'  to  kill  the  bonie  babe 
That  we  gat  us  between  ? ' 

<O,  tell  me  tell  me,  Tarn  Lin,'  she 
says, 

1  For 's  sake  that  died  on*  tree, 
If  e'er  ye  was  in  holy  chapel, 

Or  Christendom  did  see.' 

'  Roxbrugh  he  was  my  grandfather 
Took  me  with  him  to  bide, 

And  ance  it  fell  upon  a  day, 
That  wae  did  me  betide. 

'  And  ance  it  fell  upon  a  day, 
A  cauld  day  and  a  snell, 

When  we  were  frae  the  hunting  come 
That  fra'e  my  horse  I  fell. 

'  The  Queen  o'  Fairies  she  caught  me 
In  yon  green  hill  to  dwell, 

And  pleasant  is  the  fairy-land : — 
3ut,  an  eerie  tale  to  tell  J 


Ay,  at  the  end  o'  seven  years 

We  pay  a  tiend  to  hell ! 
I  am  sae  fair  and  fu'  o'  flesh 
I'm  fear'd  it  be  mysel. 

But  the  night  is  Hallowe'en,  lady, 
The  morn  is  Hallowday ; 
Then  win  me,  win  me,  an  ye  will, 
For  weel  I  wat  ye  may. 

*  Just  at  the  mirk  and  midnight  hour 

The  fairy  folk  will  ride ; 
Arid  they  that  wad  their  true-love  win 

At  Milecross  they  maun  bide.' 

1  But  how  shall  I  thee  ken,  Tarn  Lin, 
Or  how  my  true-love  know, 

Amang  sae  mony  unco  knights 
The  like  I  never  saw.' 

'O  first  let  pass  the  black,  lady, 
And  syne  let  pass  the  brown  ; 

But  quickly  run  to  the   milk-white 

steed, 
Pu'  ye  his  rider  down. 

'  For  I'll  ride  on  the  milk-white  steed, 
And  ay  nearest  the  town, 

Because  I  was  an  earthly  knight 
They  gie  me  that  renown. 

'  My  right  hand  will  be  glov'd,  lady, 
My  left  hand  will  be  bare, 

Cockt  up  shall  my  bonnet  be 

And  kaim'd  down  shall  my  hair  ; 

And  thae  's  the  tokens  I  gie  thee — 
Nae  doubt  I  will  be  there  : 

1  They'll  turn  me  in  your  arms,  lady, 

Into  an  esk  and  adder, 
But  hold  me  fast  and  fear  me  not — 

I  am  your  bairn's  father. 

'  They'll  turn  me  to  a  bear  sae  grim, 

And  then  a  lion  bold  ; 
But  hold  me  fast  and  fear  me  not, 

As  ye  shall  love  your  child. 

'  Again  they'll  turn  me  in  your  arms 
To  a  red  het  gaud  of  airn  ; 

But  hold  me  fast  and  fear  me  not, 
I'll  do  to  you  nae  harm. 


I 


33° 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


'And  last  they '11  turn  me  in  your  arms 

Into  the  burning  lead  : 
Then  throw  me  into  well  water  ; 

O  !  throw  me  in  wi'  speed. 

'  And  then  I'll  be  your  ain  true  lp,ve, 
I'll  turn  a  naked  knight ; 

Then    cover    me     wi'    your    green 

mantle, 
And  cover  me  out  o'  sight.' 

Gloomy,  gloomy  was  the  night, 
And  eerie  was  the  way, 

As  fair  Jenny  in  her  green  mantle, 
To  Milecross  she  did  gae. 

About  the  middle  o'  the  night, 
She  heard  the  bridles  ring ; 

This  lady  was  as  glad  at  that 
As  any  earthly  thing. 

First  she  let  the  black  pass  by, 
And  syne  she  let  the  brown; 

But  quickly  she  ran  to  the  milk-white 

steed, 
And  pu'd  the  rider  down. 


Sae  weel  she  minded  what   he  did 

say 

And  J^oung  Tarn  Lin  did  win  ; 
Syne  cover'd    him    wi'    her    green 

mantle, 
As  blythe  *s  a  bird  in  Spring. 

Out  then  spak  the  queen  o'  fairies, 
Out  of  a  bush  o1  broom ; 

'Them  that  has  gotten  young  Tarn 

Lin 
Has  gotten  a  stately  groom.' 

Out  then  spak  the  queen  o'  fairies, 
And  an  angry  queen  was  she  : 

'  Shame  betide  her  ill-far'd  face, 
And  an  ill  death  may  she  die, 

For  she 's  taen  awa  the  boniest  knight 
In  a'  my  companie. 

*  But  had  I  kend,  Tarn  Lin,'  she  says 
'  What  now  this  night  I  see, 

I  wad  hae  taen   out  thytwa  grey 

een, 
And  put  in  twa  een  o'  tree.' 


No.  345.    Aften  hae  I  playd  at  the  cards  and 
the  dice. 

Tune  :  The  rantin  laddie.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  462. 

Slow 


Af  -   ten      hae  1        play'd     at     the        cards    and      the       dice, 


For       the         love        of       a         bon   -  ie      ran    -    tin         lad     -    die ; 


But  now         I       maun     sit        in         my          fa   -  ther's  kitch-en 


neuk,    And        ba      -      lou  a  bas     -     tar3  ba     -     bie. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  331 

AFTEN  hae  I  play'd  at  the  cards  and  the  dice, 

For  the  love  of  a  bonie  rantin  laddie; 
But  now  I  maun  sit  in  my  father's  kitchen  neuk, 

And  balou  a  bastard  babie. 

For  my  father  he  will  not  me  own, 

And  my  mother  she  neglects  me, 

And  a'  my  friends  hae  lightlied  me, 

And  their  servants  they  do  slight  me. 

• 
But  had  I  a  servant  at  my  command — 

As  aft  times  I've  had  many, 
That  wad  rin  wi'  a  letter  to  bonie  Glenswood — 

Wi'  a  letter  to  my  rantin  laddie. 

1  Oh,  is  he  either  a  laird  or  a  lord, 

Or  is  he  but  a  cadie, 
That  ye  do  him  ca'  sae  aften  by  name, 

Your  bonie,  bonie  rantin  laddie.' 

'  Indeed  he  is  baith  a  laird  and  a  lord, 

And  he  never  was  a  cadie, 
For  he  is  the  Earl  b'  bonie  Aboyne, 

And  he  is  my  rantin  laddie.' 

1  O  ye'se  get  a  servant  at  your  command, 

As  aft  times  ye've  had  many, 
That  sail  rin  wi'  a  letter  to  bonie  Glenswood — 

A  letter  to  your  rantin  laddie.' 

When  Lord  Aboyne  did  the  letter  get, 

O,  but  he  blinket  bonie ; 
But  or  he  had  read  three  lines  of  it, 

I  think  his  heart  was  sorry. 

<O,  wha  is  he  daur  be  sae  bauld, 

Sae  cruelly  to  use  my  lassie?' 
[But  I'll  tak  her  to  bonie  Aboyne 

Where  oft  she  did  caress  me.] 
'  For  her  father  he  win"  not  her  know, 

And  her  mother  she  does  slight  her ; 
And  a'  her  friends  hae  lightlied  her, 

And  their  servants  they  neglect  her.' 
1  Go  raise  to  me  my  five  hundred  men, 

Make  haste  and  make  them  ready ; 
With  a  milkwhite  steed  under  every  ane 

For  to  bring  hame  my  lady.' 
As  they  came  in  through  Buchan-shire, 

They  were  a  company  bonie, 
With  a  gude  claymore  in  every  hand 

And  O,  but  they  shin'd  bonie. 


332 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  346.    Our  young  lady's  a  huntin  gane. 

Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  424. 


Tune  :     The  rowin't  in  her  apron. 

Slow 


Our  young   la  -  dy's   a       hunt    -     in     gane,    Sheets  nor  blan  -  kets 


has         she        taen,     But     she  's      born   her    auld         son  or        she 


cam       hame,  And  she's  row'd   him       in         her  a    -    pron. 

OUR  young  lady's  a  huntin  gane, 
Sheets  nor  blankets  has  she  taen, 
But  she 's  born  her  auld  son  or  she  cam  hame, 
And  she's  row'd  him  in  her  apron. 

Her  apron  was  o'  the  hollan  fine, 
Laid  about  wi'  laces  nine  ; 
She  thought  it  a  pity  her  babie  should  tyne, 
And  she  's  row'd  him  in  her  apron. 

Her  apron  was  o'  the  hollan  sma', 
Laid  about  wi'  laces  a', 
She  thought  it  a  pity  her  babe  to  let  fa' ; 
And  she  row'd  him  in  her  apron. 


Her  father  says  within  the  ha', 
Among  the  knights  and  nobles  a':  — 
'  I  think  I  hear  a  babie  ca' 

In  the  chamber  among  our  young  ladies.' 

'  O  father  dear  !    it  is  a  bairn, 
I  hope  it  will  do  you  nae  harm, 
For  the  laddie  I  lo'ed,  and  he'll  lo'e  me  again, 
For  the  rowin't  in  my  apron.' 

O,  is  he  a  gentleman,  or  is  a  clown, 
That  has  brought  thy  fair  body  dowri  ? 
I  would  not  for  a'  this  town 
The  rowin't  in  thy  apron.' 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


'  Young  Terreagles  is  nae  clown, 
He  is  the  toss  of  Edinborrow  town, 
And  he'll  buy  me  a  braw  new  gown 
For  the  rowin't  in  my  apron.' 


333 


'  It 's  I  hae  castles,  I  hae  towers, 
I  hae  barns,  and  I  hae  bowers ; 
A'  that  is  mine  it  shall  be  thine 
For  the  rowin't  in  thy  apron/ 


No.  347.    '  O,  for  my  ain  king?  qiitf  glide  Wallace. 

Tune:  Gude  Wallace.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  484. 

Slowish 


i^e 


'O,        for        my      ain        king,'    quo'      gude    Wai  -  lace,      'The       right    - 


ISE 

—  n  —  __ 

_J  —  J^ 

-  —  ^  —  J^ 

e- 

V 

—  f?  —  ~fH 

•w  —  m— 

-    fu' 

king         of 

ft 

lir      Scot 

•  land,      Be   - 

* 

twee 

n       me 

and        my 

-J?  —  i- 

I  ^__P  

_ps 

—  N- 

F*- 

S  

•  SEE 

tf> 

3E 

-r  —  f  r 

3= 

—  J— 

f  — 

sove  -  reign  blude,     I        think          I         see^       some         ill         seed    sawn. 

'  O,  FOR  my  ain  king,'  quo'  gude  Wallace, 

1  The  rightfu'  king  of  fair  Scotland, 
Between  me  and  my  sovereign  blude, 

I  think  I  see  some  ill  seed  sawn/ 

Wallace  out  over  yon  river  he  lap, 

And  he  has  lighted  low  down  on  yon  plain, 

And  he  was  aware  of  a  gay  ladie, 
As  she  was  at  the  well  washing. 

'  What  tydins,  what  tydins,  fair  lady/  he  says, 
'What  tydins  hast  thou  to  tell  unto  me — 

What  tydins,  what  tydins,  fair  lady,'  he  says, 
'  What  tydins  hae  ye  in  the  south  countrie  ? ' 

'  Low  down  in  yon  wee  Ostler-house 

There  is  fyfteen  Englishmen, 
And  they  are  seekin  for  gude  Wallace  ; 

It 's  him  to  take,  and  him  to  hang/ 


334      TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 

'There's  nocht  in  my  purse,'  quo'  gude  Wallace, 
1  There  *s  nocht,  not  even  a  bare  pennie ; 

But  I  will  down  to  yon  wee  Ostler-house 
Thir  fyfteen  Englishmen  to  see.' 

And  when  he  cam  to  yon  wee  Ostler-house 

He  bad  benedicite  be  there  ; 
[The  Englishmen  at  the  table  sat 

The  wine-fac'd  captain  at  him  did  stare.] 

'Where  was  ye  born,  auld  crookit  carl, 
Where  was  ye  born — in  what  countrie?' 

'  I  am  a  true  Scot  born  and  bred, 
And  an  auld  crookit  carl  just  sic  as  ye  see.' 

'  I  wad  gie  fyfteen  shillings  to  onie  crookit  carl — 
To  onie  crookit  carl  just  sic  as  ye, 

If  ye  will  get  me  gude  Wallace, 

For  he  is  the  man  I  wad  very  fain  see.' 

He  hit  the  proud  captain  alang  the  chaft  blade, 
That  never  a  bit  o'  meal  he  ate  mair ; 

And  he  sticket  the  rest  at  the  table  where  they  sat, 
And  he  left  them  a*  lyin  sprawlin  there.     . 

'  Get  up,  get  up,  gudewife,'  he  says, 
1  And  get  to  me  some  dinner  in  haste  ; 

For  it  will  soon  be  three  lang  days 
Sin  I  a  bit  o*  meat  did  taste.' 

The  dinner  was  na  weel  readie, 

Nor  was  it  on  the  table  set, 
Till  other  fyfteen  Englishmen 

Were  a'  lighted  about  the  yett. 

*  Come  out,  come  out,  now  gude  Wallace 
This  is  the  day  that  thou  maun  die  ; ' 

'  I  lippen  nae  sae  little  to  God,'  he  says, 
'  Altho'  I  be  but  ill  wordie.' 

The  gudewife  had  an  auld  gudeman, 
By  gude  Wallace  he  stiffly  stood  ; 

Till  ten  o'  the  fyfteen  Englishmen 
Before  the  door  lay  in  their  blude. 

The  other  five  to  the  greenwood  ran, 
And  he  hang'd  these  five  upon  a  grain; 

And  on  the  morn  wi'  his  merry  men  a1 
He  sat  at  dine  in  Lochmaben  town. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  335 

No.  348.    Near  Edinburgh  was  a  young  son  born. 

Tune :  Hynde  Horn.         Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  No.  13. 

^=£5=33=1 
-* a*  J     j~9      fA 


Near      Ed  -  in -burgh    was      a       young      son        born,— Hey      li   -   le    - 


^ 


lu         an'        a        how         low       Ian',       An*       his        name        it         was 

call  -  ed  young  Hyn-horn,  An'  it 's    hey      down  down,  deedle       air    -    o. 

NEAR  Edinburgh  was  a  young  son  born, — 

Hey  lilelu  an'  a  how  low  Ian', 
An'  his  name  it  was  called  young  Hynhorn, 

An'  it's  hey  down  down,  deedle  airo. 

Seven  long  years  he  served  the  king, — 

Hey  lilelu,  &c. 
And  it's  a'  for  the  sake  of  his  daughter  Jean,; — 

An'  it 's  hey  down,  &c. 

The  king  an  angry  man  was  he, — 
He  sent  young  Hynhorn  to  the  sea. 


An'  on  his  finger  she  put  a. ring, 

[Wi'  three  shining  diamonds  set  therein.] 

When  your  ring  turns  pale  and  wan, 
Then  I'm  in  love  wi'  another  man. 

******* 

Upon  a  day  he  look'd  at  his  ring, 
It  was  as  pale  as  any  thing. 

He  's  left  the  sea,  and  he 's  come  to  the  Ian', 
And  there  he  met  an  auld  beggar  man. 

'  What  news,  what  news,  my  auld  beggar  man, 
What  news,  what  news  by  sea  or  by  Ian'  ? ' 

1  Nae  news,  nae  news,'  the  auld  beggar  said, 
'But  the  king's  daughter  Jean  is  going  to  be  wed.* 

1  Cast  off,  cast  off,  thy  auld  beggar  weed, 
An'  I'll  gie  thee  my  gude  grey  steed/ 


336 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


When  he  cam  to  our  gude  king's  yett, 

He  sought  a  glass  o'  wine  for  young  Hynhorn's  sake. 

He  drank  out  the  wine  and  he  put  in  the  ring, 

And  he  bade  them  carry 't  to  the  king's  dochter  Jean. 

******* 

*  O  gat  ye't  by  sea,  or  gat  ye't  by  Ian', 
O  gat  ye't  aff  a  dead  man's  han'? 

4 1  gat  na't  by  sea,   I  gat  na't  by  Ian', 
But  I  gat  it  out  of  your  own  fair  han'.' 
******* 

*  Go,  take  away  my  bridal  gown, 

And  I'll  follow  him  frae  town  to  town.' 
'Ye  need  na  leave  your  bridal  gown, 
For  I'll  make  ye  ladie  o'  mony  a  town.' 


No.  349.    What  merriment  has  taen  the  Whigs. 

Tune:   The  German  lairdie.        Corrected  from  Burns' s  MS. 


What  mer  -  ri  -  ment  has  taen  the  Whigs,  I  think  they  be  gaen  mad,  Sir, 


Wi'    play  -  ing   up  their  Whig  -  gish  jigs,  Their  dan  -  cin    may  be     sad,     Sir. 
CHORUS. 


hee  -  die     HI  •    tie,    fee  -  die       lil  -  tie^   An-dum,  tan-dum,  tan  -  die, 


,  fa*    de  dal,    de    dal    lal  lal,  Sing  how  -  die    lil  -  tie     dan  -  die. 


WHAT  merriment  has  taen  the  Whigs 
I  think  they  be  gaen  mad,  Sir, 

Wi'  playing  up  their  Whiggish  jigs, 
Their  dan  cin  may  be  sad,  Sir. 

CHORUS.     Sing  heedle  liltie,  teedle  liltie, 
Andum,  tandum,   tandie, 
Sing  fal  de  dal,  de  dal  lal  lal, 
Sing  howdle  liltie  dandie. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


337 


The  Revolution  principles 

Has  put  their  heads  in  bees,  Sir ; 
They're  a'  fa'en  out  amang  themsels- 

Deil  tak  the  first  that  grees,  Sir. 


No.  350.    O,  that  I  were  where  Helen  lies. 

Tune  :  Where  Helen  lies.         Blaikie's  MS.,  1692. 


i 


O,      that    I  were  where  He  -  len     lies !  Night  atid  day    on      me    she 

>-^ 


cries ;    O,     that     I  were  where  He  -  len    lies    In      fair  Kirk-con  -  nel    lee. 


O,  THAT  I  were  where  Helen  lies  ! 
Night  and  day  on  me  she  cries  ; 
O,  that  I  were  where  Helen  lies 
In  fair  Kirkconnel  lee. 

O  Helen  fair !  beyond  compare, 
A  ringlet  of  thy  flowing  hair, 
I'll  wear  it  still  for  evermair 
Until  the  day  I  die. 

Curs'd  be  the  hand  that  shot  the  shot, 
And  curs'd  the  gun   that  gave   the 

crack, 

Into  my  arms  bird  Helen  lap, 
And  died  for  sake  o'  me. 

O  think  na  ye  but  my  heart  was  sair, 
My  love  fell  down  and  spake   nae 

mair, 

There  did  she  swoon  wi'  meikle  care 
On  fair  Kirkconnel  lee. 


I    lighted    down,    my    sword    did 

draw, 

I  cutted  him  in  pieces  sma' ; 
I  cutted  him  in  pieces  sma1 
On  fair  Kirkconnel  lee. 

0  Helen  chaste,  thou  wert  modest* 
If  I  were  with  thee  I  were  blest, 
Where  thou  lies  low,  and  takes  thy 

rest 

On  fair  Kirkconnel  lee. 

1  wish  my  grave  was  growing  green, 
A  winding  sheet  put  o'er  my  een, 
And  I  in  Helen's  arms  lying 

In  fair  Kirkconnel  lee  ! 

I  wish  I  were  where  Helen  lies ! 

Night  and  day  on  me  she  cries  ; 

O,  that  I  were  where  Helen  lies 

On  fair  Kirkconnel  lee. 


'O  Helen  chaste,  thou'rt  now  at  rest'— Johnson's  Museum. 


338 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  351.      O  heard  ye  of  a  silly  harper? 

Tune:   The  Lochmaben  harper.      GlenriddeWs  MS.,  1791. 


O,  heard  ye    of     a         sil  -  ly  har-per,  Liv'd  long  in   Loqh-ma-ben town  ? 


How    he  did  gang  to     fair  England  To  steal  King  Hen-ry's    wan-ton  brown, 


FS- 


£ 


How  he  did  gang  to  fair  Eng-land  To  steal  King  Hen-ry's    wan-ton  brown. 

O,  HEARD  ye  of  a  silly  harper 

Liv'd  long  in  Lochmaben  town  ? 
How  he  did  gang  to  fair  England  )    ,. 

To  steal  King  Henry's  wanton  brown,    i 

But  first  he  gaed  to  his  gudewife 

Wi'  a'  the  speed  that  he  could  thole  : — 
*  This  wark,'  quo'  he,   'will  never  work     )     ,. 

Without  a  mare  that  has  a  foal.'  i 

Quo'  she,   '  thou  has  a  gude  grey  mare 

That'll  rin  o'er  hills  baith  low  and  hie  ; 
Gae  tak  the  grey  mare  in  thy  hand, 

And  leave  the  foal  at  hame  wi'  me.' 


bis 


bis 


'And  tak  a  halter  in  thy  hose,     . 

And  o1  thy  purpose  dinna  fail, 
But  wap  it  o'er  the  wanton's  nose, 

And  tie  her  to  the  grey  mare's  tail. 

'  Syne  ca'  her  out  at  yon  back  yeate, 
O'er  moss  and  muir  and  ilka  dale, 

For  she'll  ne'er  let  the  wanton  bite, 
Till  she  come  hame  to  her  ain  foal.' 

So  he  is  up  to  England  gane, 

Even  as  fast  as  he  can  hie, 
Till  he  came  to  King  Henry's  yeate —        )    ,. 

And  wha  was  there  but  King  Henry  ?    ) 

*Come  in,'  quo'  he,  'thou  silly  blind  harper, 
And  of  thy  harping  let  me  hear '  : 

'  O  !    by  my  sooth,'  quo'  the  silly  blind  harper, 
'I'd  rather  hae  stabling  for  my  mare.' 


bis 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


339 


The  king  looks  o'er  his  left  shoulder, 
And  says  unto  his  stable  groom  ; — 

'Gae  tak  the  silly  poor  harper's  mare, 
And  tie  her  'side  my  wanton  brown.' 

And  ay  he  harped,  and  ay  he  carpit, 
Till  a'  the  lords  gaed  through  the  floor; 

They  thought  the  music  was  sae  sweet 
That  they  forgat  the  stable  door. 

And  ay  he  harpit,  and  ay  he  carpit, 
Till  a'  the  nobles  were  sound  asleep ; 

Then  quietly  he  took  aff  his  shoon 
And  saftly  down  the  stair  did  creep. 


bis 


bis 


Syne  to  the  stable  door  he  hies 

Wi'  tread  as  light  as  light  could  be, 

And  when  he  open'd  and  gaed  in, 

There  he  fand  thirty  good  steeds  and  three. 


bis 


bis 


He  took  the  halter  frae  his  hose, 
And  of  his  purpose  did  na  fail ; 

He  slipt  it  o'er  the  wanton's  nose, 
And  tied  it  to  his  grey  mare's  tail. 

He  ca'd  her  out  at  yon  back  yeate 
O'er  moss  and  muir  &  ilka-  dale  ; 

And  she  loot  ne'er  the  wanton  bite, 
But  held  her  still  gaun  at  her  tail. 

The  grey  mare  was  right  swift  o'  fit, 
And  did  na  fail  to  find  the  way, 

For  she  was  at  Lochmaben  yeate 
Fu'  lang  three  hours  ere  it  was  day. 


When  she  came  to  the  harper's  door, 
There  she  gae  many  a  nicher  and  snear ; 

*  Rise,'  quo'  the  wife,  '  thou  lazy  lass,    )  , . 

Let  in  thy  master  and  his  mare.'         1 

Then  up  she  raise,  pat  on  her  claes, 
And  lookit  out  through  the  lock-hole  : 

*  O  !  by  my  sooth,  then,'  quo'  the  lass,        )  , . 

'  Our  mare  has  gotten  a  braw  big  foal.' 

'Come  haud  thy  peace  thou  foolish  lass, 
The  moon 's  but  glancing  in  thy  e'e ; 

I'd  wad  my  haill  fee  'gainst  a  groat  1  , . 

It's  bigger  than  e'er  our  foal  will  be.' 
z  a 


340 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


bis 


The  neighbours  too  that  heard  the  noise 
Cried  to  the  wife  to  put  her  in ; . 

'By  my  sooth,,  then,'  quoth  the  wife 
'She's  better  than  ever  he  rade  on.' 

But  on  the  morn  at  fair  daylight, 

When  they  had  ended  a'  their  cheer  : 

King  Henry's  wanton  brown  was  stawn, 
And  eke  the  poor  auld  harper's  mare. 


'  Alace  !   alace  ! '  says  the  silly  blind  harper ; 

'  Alace !  alace  !    that  I  came  here, 
In  Scotland  I've  tint  a  braw  cowte  foal, 

In  England  they've  stawn  my  gude  grey  mare.' 

'Come  haud  thy  tongue,  thou  silly  blind  harper, 

And  of  thy  alacing  let  me  be, 
For  thou  shall  get  a  better  mare, 

And  weel  paid  shall  thy  cowte  foal  be. 
For  thou  shall  get  a  better  mare, 

And  weel  paid  shall  thy  cowte  foal  be.' 


bis 


No.  352.     Nae  birdies  sang  the  mirky  hour. 

Tune  :  Sweet  Willy.         Blaikie's  MS.,  1692. 


Slow 


Nae        bir  -  dies     sang       the  mir  -  ky      hour      A  -   mang    the 


braes        o'  Yar  -  row,       But      slum  -  ber'd       on          the  dew 


y         boughs         to  wait        the       wauk  -  'ning         mor  -  row. 

NAE  birdies  sang  the  mirky  hour 

Amang  the  braes  o'  Yarrow, 
But  slumber'd  on  the  dewy  boughs, 

To  wait  the  wauk'ning  morrow. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


341 


'Where  shall  I  gang,  my  ain  true  love, 
Where  shall  I  gang  to  hide  me  ; 

For  weel  ye  ken,  i'  ye' re  father's  bow'r, 
It  wad  be  death  to  find  me.1 

'O,  go  you  to  yon  tavern  house, 
An'  there  count  o'er  your  lawin, 

An'  if  I  be  a  woman  true, 
I'll  meet  you  in  the  dawin.' 

O,  he's  gone  to  yon  tavern  house, 
An'  ay  he  counted  his  lawin, 

An'  ay  he  drank  to  her  gude  health — 
Was  to  meet  him  in  the  dawin. 

O,  he's  gone  to  yon  tavern  house, 

An'  counted  owre  his  lawin, 
When  in  there  cam  three  armed  men 

To  meet  him  in  the  dawin. 

'  O,  woe.  be  unto  woman's  wit, 

It  has  beguiled  many  I 
She  promised  to  come  hersel, 

But  she  sent  three  men  to  slay  me.' 


*  Get  up,  get  up,  now  Sister  Ann, 
I  fear  we've  wrought  you  sorrow ; 

Get  up,  ye'll  find  your  true  love  slain 
Among  the  banks  of  Yarrow. 

She  sought  him  east,  she  sought  him  west, 
She  sought  him  braid  and  narrow, 

Till  in  the  clintin  of  a  craig, 

She  found  him  drown'd  in  Yarrow. 

She's  ta'en  three  links  of  her  yellow  hair 
That  hung  down  long  and  yellow ; 

And  she 's  tied  it  about  sweet  Willie's  waist, 
An'  drawn  him  out  of  Yarrow. 


I  made  my  love  a  suit  of  clothes, 
I  clad  him  all  in  tartan  ; 

But  ere  the  morning  sun  arose 
He  was  a'  bluid  to  the  gartan. 


342 


TONE-POETRY  OF  ROBERT  BURNS 


No.  353.    Rob  Roy  from  the  Highlands  cam. 

Tune :  Mill,  Mill  O  !  (see  No.  266). 


ROB  Roy  from  the  Highlands  cam 

Unto  the  Lawlan'  border, 
To  steal  awa  a  gay  ladie, 

To  baud  his  house  in  order  : 
He  cam  owre  the  loch  o'  Lynn, 

Twenty  men  his  arms  did  carry 
Himsel  gaed  in  an'  fand  her  out, 

Protesting  he  would  marry. 


*  O,  will  ye  gae  wi'  me,'  he  says, 

'  Or  will  ye  be  my  honey ; 
Or  will  ye  be  my  wedded  wife, 

For  I  love  you  best  of  ony '  ; 
1 1  winna  gae  wi'  you,'  she  says, 

*  Nor  will  I  be  your  honey  ; 
Nor  will  I  be  your  wedded  wife, 

You  love  me  for  my  money.' 


But  he  set  her  on  a  eoal  black  steed, 

Himsel  lap  on  behind  her, 
An'  he 's  awa  to  the  Hieland  hills, 

Whare  her  frien's  they  canna  find  her. 

No.  354. 

[The  song  went  on  to  narrate  the  forcing  her  to  bed ;   when  the  tune 
changes  to  something  like 

Jenny  dang  the  weaver.']         Orpheus  Cakdonius,  1733,  No.  37. 


Rob   Roy  was    my      fa  -  ther  ca'd,  Mac  -  gre  -  gor   was     his  name,     la  - 


?  rf  —  f*~N  \   K    ^ 

~1  —  K  —  ^  

i  9  i~ 

=g=g->     J     «T  f     «T  J*  J-H* 

jT  JT 

c  r  &- 

Y      Y                               I/              "              ^* 

i> 

Ir       '        Ir 

die;  He    led     a    band  o*     he  -  roes  bauld,  Aa'     I        am    here    the    same,    la 

$-*  —  M?  —  r  t  v  ^f-Fr 

H^  —  F  — 

-f—  J- 

L     f'        \S      *        -«J         r       *        *"M       "  ,  ]/ 

r      "^      !> 

t> 

die.      Be   con  -  tent,      be    con  •  tent,        Be     con  -  tent     to     stay,   la  -  die  ; 

O                                                             ^                          *               — 

*              &-——&               &       P       V      '  ^ 

•    i        ^   r"     i 

p      ^ 

^-r—t  \/  r     -&—  V— 

Eea~is 

For  thou    art     my     wed  -  ded    wife     Un  -  til     thy    dy  -  ing  day,    la  -  die. 


ROB  Roy  was  my  father  ca'd, 

Macgregor  was  his  name,  ladie ; 
He  led  a  band  o'  heroes  bauld, 

An'  I  am  here  the  same,  ladie. 
Be  content,  be  content, 

Be  content  to  stay,  ladie  ; 
For  thou  art  my  wedded  wife 

Until  thy  dying  day,  ladie. 


He  was  a  hedge  unto  his  friens, 

A  heckle  to  his  foes,  ladie  ; 
Every  one  that  durst  him  wrang, 

He  took  him  by  the  nose,  ladie  ; 
I'm  as  bold,  I'm  as  bold, 

I'm  as  bold,  and  more,  ladie  ; 
He  that  daurs  dispute  my  word 

Shall  feel  my  guid  claymore,  ladie. 


APPENDIX 


UNCERTAIN 


No.  355.    O,  Donald  Couper  and  his  man. 

Tune:  Donald  Couper.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  334. 
Gaily 


CHORUS.    Hey 


Donald, 


Donald^ 


Hey 


Donald 


m 

' 


.| 


Cou  -  Per;   He  '•$•         gane         awa     to  seek      a     wife^  and       he  'j 

Fine. 


-H9 

f:  1"  [ 

N=l 

-  —  jjjj 

?     j-i 

=J=4= 

hame  with -out     her.  O,         Do  -  nald   Cou  -  per      an!    his    nian 


Held        to         a    High -land    fair,     man,     And         a'       to        seek         a 

D.C. 


^^^& 


bon    -    ie        lass,        But        fient         a        ane        was          there,     man." 

CHORUS.     Hey  Donald,  how  Donald,  ' 

Hey  Donald  Couper; 
He 's  gane  awa  to  seek  a  wife, 
And  he's  come  hame  without  her. 

O,   DONALD  Couper  and  his  man 
Held  to  a  Highland  fair,  man, 
And  a'  to  seek  a  bonie  lass, 

But  fient  a  ane  was  there,  man. 

At  length  he  got  a  carlin  gray, 

And  she's  come  hirplin  hame,  man: 

And  she  's  fa'n  o'er  the  buffet  stool 
And  brak  her  rumple-bane,  man. 


344 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  356.    O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather. 

Tune  :  OVr  tye  moor  amang  the  heather.     Scots  Mus.  Museum,  1792,  No.  328. 


^<* 


3 


Com  -  in  thro'  the  craigs  o'  Kyle,    A-mangthe   bon-ie  bloom-ing  heather, 


There   I    met    a     bon   -  ie      las  -  sie  Keep-ing    a'    her  yowes  the  -  gith  -  er. 
CHORUS. 


O'er    the  moor  a-mang  the   heather \     O'er    the  moor  a-mang  the  heather ; 


There   I     met    a     bon-ie     las  •  sie  Keep- ing    a?   her  yowes  the -gith- er. 

COMIN  thro'  the  craigs  o'  Kyle, 
Amang  the  bonie  blooming  heather, 
There  I  met  a  bonie  lassie, 
Keeping  a'  her  yowes  thegither. 

O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather ; 

O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather  ; 

There  I  met  a  bonie  lassie 

Keeping  a'  her  yowes  thegither. 

Says  I,  *  My  dear  whare  is  thy  hame, 
In  moor,  or  dale,  pray  tell  me  whether  ? ' 
She  says,  *  I  tent  thae  fleecy  flocks 
That  feed  amang  the  blooming  heather.' 
O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather, 
O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather ; 
She  says,   'I  tent  thae  fleecy  flocks, 
That  feed  amang  the  blooming  heather.' 

We  laid  us  down  upon  a  bank, 
Sae  warm  and  sunny  was  the  weather ; 
She  left  her  flocks  at  large  to  rove 
Amang  the  bonie  blooming  heather. 
O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather, 
O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather ; 
She  left  her  flocks  at  large  to  rove 
Amang  the  bonie  blooming  heather. 


APPENDIX 


345 


While  thus  we  lay,  she  sang  a  sang, 
Till  echo  ran  a  mile  and  farther;' 
And  ay  the  burden  o'  the  sang 
Was,   O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather. 
O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather, 
O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather ; 
And  ay  the  burden  o'  the  sang 
Was,   O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather. 

She  charm'd  my  heart,  and  ay  sinsyne, 
I  could  na  think  on  ony  ither: 
By  sea  and  sky  she  shall  be  mine  ! 
The  bonie  lass  amang  the  heather. 

O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather, 

O'er  the.  moor  amang  the  heather ; 

By  sea  and  sky  she  shall  be  mine  ! 

The  bonie  lass  amang  the  heather. 


No.  357.    As  I  lay  on  my  bed  on  a  night. 

Tune  :  Go  from  my  window,  love,  do  (see  No.  307). 

As  I  lay  on  my  bed  on  a  night, 
I  thought  upon  her  beauty  bright, 

But  the  moon  by  night 

Did  give  no  light 
Which  did  perplex  me  sore — 
Yet  away  to  my  love  I  did  go. 

Then  under  her  window  I  came, 
I  gently  call'd  her  by  her  name ; 

Then  up  she  rose, 

Put  on  her  clothes, 
And  whisper'd  to  me  slow, 
Saying  : — '  Go  from  my  window,  love,  do."1 

*  My  father  and  my  mother  are  asleep, 
And  if  they  chance  to  hear  you  speak, 

There  will  be  nocht 

But  great  abuse 
Wi'  many*  a  bitter  blow  : — 
And  it 's  Go  from  my  window,  love,  do.' 


3*6 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  358.    The  auld  mans  mare's  dead. 

Tune  :  The  auld  man's  mare's  dead.     Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  485. 


CHORUS.    The    auld  man's  mare  's  dead,  The       poor      man's    mare's  dead.  The 

Fine. 


auld     man's  mare ' J  dead,    A      mile     a  -  boon  Dun  •  dee.        She     was 


cut  -  lug  -  git,  painch-lip  -pit,        Steel    waim  -  it,    stair-  cher  -  fit  -   ted, 


Chan  -  ler  -  chaf  -  tit,       lang  -  neck  -  it,       Yet      the    brute     did      die. 


CHORUS.      The  auld  man's  mare's  dead, 
The  poor  man's  mare 's  dead, 
The  auld  man's  mare  's  dead, 
A  mile  aboon  Dundee* 

SHE  was  cut-luggit,  painch-lippit, 
Steel-waimit,  stancher-fitted, 
Chanler-chaftit,  langrneckit, 
Yet  the  brute  did  die. 

Her  lunzie-bane    were  knaggs  and  neuks ; 
She  had  the  cleeks,  the  cauld,  the  crooks, 
The  jawpish  and  the  wanton  yeuks, 
And  the  howks  aboon  her  e'e. 

My  master  ca't  me  to  the  town, 
He  ty'd  me  to  a  staincher  round, 
He  took  a  chappin  to  himsel, 
But  fient  a  drap  gae  me. 

CHORUS.      The  auld  man's  mare's  dead, 
The  poor  man's  mare 's  dead, 
The  peats  and  tours  and  a'  to  lead 
And  yet  the  jad  did  die. 


APPENDIX 


347 


No.  359.    She  sat  down  below  a  thorn. 

Tune  :  Fine  flower  in  the  valley.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  320. 
Very  slow 


p 


She     sat    down  be -low     a     thorn,  Fine  flow' rs  in  the      val-ley;   And 


there  she  has   her    sweet  babe  born,  And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rare  -  ly. 


SHE  sat  down  below  a  thorn 

(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley), 
And  there  she  has  her  sweet  babe  born, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 

Smile  na  sae  sweet,  my  bonie  babe 

(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley), 
And  ye  smile  sae  sweet,  ye'll  smile  me  dead, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 

She's  taen  out  her  little  penknife, 

(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley), 
And  twinn'd  the  sweet  babe  o'  its  life, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 

She  's  howket  a  grave  by  the  light  o'  the  moon, 

(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley)  ; 
And  there  she's  buried  her  sweet  babe  in, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 

As  she  was  going  to  the  church, 

(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley) ; 
She  saw  a  sweet  babe  in  the  porch, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 

0  sweet  babe  and  thou  wert  mine, 
(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley)  ; 

1  wad  deed  thee  in  silk  so  fine, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 

O  mother  dear  when  I  was  thine, 

(Fine  flowers  in  the  valley)  ; 
You  did  na  prove  to  me  sae  kind, 

(And  the  green  leaves  they  grow  rarely). 


348 


TONE-POETRY    OF    ROBERT    BURNS 


No.  360.  JTs  whisper  d  in  parlour. 

Tune  :  The  broom  blooms  borne.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  461. 

Slow 


It  s       whis-per'd       in      par  -  lour,   it's         whis   -  per'd    in      ha', 


The         broom    blooms       bon   -    ie,         The         broom      blooms     fair 


La    -  dy      Mar  -  get's    wi'    child  a     -     mang    our    la   -   dies     a' 


And       she      dare     na        gae    down       to        the       broom      nae    main 


IT'S  whisper'd  in  parlour,  it's  whisper' d  in  ha', 
The  broom  blooms  bonie,  the  broom  blooms  fair ; 

Lady  Marget's  wi'  child  amang  our  ladies  a', 

And  she  dare  na  gae  down  to  the  broom  nae  mair. 

One  lady  whisper'd  unto  another, 

The  broom  blooms  bonie,  the  broom  blooms  fair ; 
Lady  Marget's  wi'  child  to  Sir  Richard  her  brother, 

And  she  dare  na  gae  down .  to  the  broom  nae  mair. 


O,  when  that  you  hear  my  loud,  loud  cry, 

The  broom  blooms  bonie:  the  broom  blooms  fair  ; 

Then  bend  your  bow  and  let  your  arrows  fly, 
For  I  dare  na  gae  down  to  the  broom  nae  mair. 


APPENDIX 


349 


No.  361.   A  nobleman  livd  in  a  village  of  late. 

Tune  :   The  poor  thresher.         Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  372. 


no   -    ble-man    liv'd    in         a  vil  -  lage        of          late, 


torv-£ 


Hard         by        a    poor  thresher  whose    toil       it         was        great,    Who 


L^ 

bpz= 


had          ma      -      ny        chil  -  dren         and        most    of       them 


small, 


And          nought  but        his         la  -  bor      to        keep  them       up        all. 


A  NOBLEMAN  liv'd  in  a  vjjlage  of  late, 
Hard  by  a  poor  thresher  whose  toil  it  was  great, 
Who  had  many  children  and  most  of  them  small, 
And  nought  but  his  labor  to  keep  them  up  all. 

The  poor  man  was  seen  to  go  early  to  work ; 
He  never  was  known  to  idle  or  lurk  ; 
With  his  flail  on  his  back  and  his  bottle  of  beer, 
As  happy  as  those  that  have  thousands  a  year. 
&c.,  &c. 


UNKNOWN. 

Cockabendy. 

Wha  's  fou  now,  my  jo. 

Fair  Emma. 

Can  ye  leave  me  so,  laddie. 


HISTORICAL     NOTES 


NOTE. — The  greater  number  of  the  Music  Books,  referred  to  in  the  following 
Notes,  are  undated.  To  avoid  defacement  by  innumerable  brackets  the 
ascertained  year  of  publication  follows  the  title  and  precedes  the  volume 
or  page  of  the  book  quoted.  The  works  with  and  without  dates  of 
publication  are  shown  in  the  Bibliography. 

The  Notes  marked  with  an  asterisk  *  refer  to  the  Songs  now  printed  for  the 
.first  time  as  the  works  of  Burns. 


I 


I.    LOVE-SONGS:   PERSONAL. 

a.  Various. 

No.  1.  O,  once  I  lov'd  a  bonie  lass.  Burns  remarks  in  his  Commonplace 
Book,  prior  to  copying  this  song,  '  I  never  had  the  least  thought  or  inclination 
of  turning  poet  till  I  got  once  heartily  in  love,'  and  records  it  as  '  the  first  of 
my  performances,  and  done  at  an  early  period  of  life,  when  my  heart  glowed 
with  honest  warm  simplicity ;  unacquainted,  and  uncorrupted,  with  the  ways  of 
a  wicked  world.  The  performance  is,  indeed,  very  puerile  and  silly ;  but  I  am 
always  pleased  with  it,  as  it  recalls  to  my  mind  those  happy  days  when  my 
heart  was  yet  honest  and  my  tongue  was  sincere '  (Commonplace  Book,  Edin. 
1872,  j).  The  song  was  written  in  1774  (the  above  note  is  dated  April,  1783), 
in  honour  of  Nelly  Kilpatrick,  '  who  sang  sweetly/  a  farm  servant,  and  daughter 
of  a  village  blacksmith  who  in  former  days  had  lent  the  boy  Burns  romantic 
chap-books  to  read.  Burns  did  not  publish  the  song,  and  it  was  first  printed 
posthumously  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  jji,  without  the  Fal 
de  lal  chorus  in  the  original  copy. 

I  cannot  trace  'the  tune  /  am  a  man  unmarried — the  favourite  reel  of  the 
girl — for  which  Burns  wrote  the  verses ;  and  the  music  to  which  the  verses 
were  set  in  the  Museum,  and  there  printed  for  the  first  time,  has  not  the 
'  ancient '  character  assigned  to  it  by  Stenhouse,  and  there  is  no  evidence  that 
Burns  knew  the  tune  as  printed. 

No.  2.  In  Tarbolton,  ye  ken.  Chambers's  Burns,  1851  ;  without  title  of 
tune.  The  farm  of  the  Bennals  named  in  the  verses  is  situated  near  Afton 
Lodge,  a  few  miles  from  Lochlea,  where  Burns  probably  lived  at  the  time  he 
celebrated  the  two  daughters  of  Ronald,  who  was  reputed  to  be  a  person  of 
means  and  gave  himself  airs.  Gilbert  Burns,  it  is  said,  had  wooed  Jean,  but 
was  rejected  on  account  of  his  poverty  :  Robert  affected  the  other,  Anna.  In 
1789  Ronald  became  a  bankrupt,  and  Burns  in  conveying  the  news  to  his 
younger  brother  William  did  not  conceal  his  feelings  when  he  says,  '  You  will 
easily  guess,  that  from  his  insolent  vanity  in  his  sunshine  of  life,  he  will  now 
feel  a  little  retaliation  from  those  who  thought  themselves  eclipsed  by  him; 
for,  poor  fellow,  I  do  not  think  he  ever  intentionally  injured  any  one.'  The 
tune  of  the  song  is  unknown. 

No.  3.  Altho*  my  bed  were  in  yon  muir.  This  gallant  little  song  has 
been  much  neglected,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  has  never  been  printed  with  its 
proper  melody.  The  verses  are  in  the  Commonplace  Book  entitled,  *  Fragment. 


352  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Tune,  Galla  Water?  with  a  note  :  '  Done  something  in  imitation  of  the  manner 
of  a  noble  old  Scottish  piece  called  McMillaris  Peggy,  and  sings  to  the  tune  of 
Galla  Water.  My  Montgomerie's  Peggy  was  my  deity  for  six  or  eight  months. 
She  had  been  bred,  tho',  as  the  world  says,  without  any  just  pretence  for  it,  in 
a  style  of  life  rather  elegant  ...  I  began  the  affair  merely  in  gait£  de  cceur 
....  but  it  cost  me  some  heart-aches  to  get  rid  of  the  affair.  I  have  even  tried 
to  imitate,  in  this  extempore  thing,  that  irregularity  in  the  rhyme  which,  when 
judiciously  done,  has  such  a  fine  effect  on  the  ear'  (Commonplace  Book,  1872, 
//).  So  far  as  ascertained,  Peggy  was  the  housekeeper  of  Montgomery  of  Coils- 
field.  She  and  Burns  attended  the  same  church,  and  there  began  the  flirtation 
which  ended  abruptly  as  described.  The  verses  were  originally  printed  in 
Cromek's  Reliques  of  Robert  Burns,  i8oS,  jjo.  Neither  Johnson  nor  George 
Thomson  seem  to  have  known  this  metrically  defective  but  verbally  melodic 
song.  The  esteemed  German  composer  of  songs,  Robert  Franz,  has  set  it  to 
an  original  air.  F'or  the  origin  of  tune  Galla  Water,  see  No.  137. 
The  poetic  model  of  Burns's  McMillan's  Peggy  is  unknown  to  me. 

No.  4.  Yestreen  I  met  you  on  the  moor.  Commonplace  Book,  1872,  2;. 
*  Tune,  Invercauld's  Reel,  Strathspey!  Printed  without  the  second  and  last 
stanzas,  and  signed  'X'  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  196.  The 
manuscript  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  song  was  written  at  the  age  of  seven- 
teen for  Tibbie  or  Isabella  Stein,  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  at  Tarbolton,  whose 
land  marched  with  that  of  Lochlea,  the  home  of  Burns.  Invercauld's  Reel  has 
been  a  popular  air  in  Scotland  since  it  was  printed  in  Stewart's  Reels,  1762, 31. 
It  is  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  dance-music  of  Scotland,  illustrating  the  use 
of  the  '  Scots  snap  '  and  havfng  an  irregular  close.  The  Museum  copy  differs 
from  that  in  the  text,  which  is  from  Stewart's  Collection,  in  that  every  alternate 
quaver  is  dotted.  The  music  is  also  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1768,  ioj\  and 
McGlashan's  Strathspey  Reels,  1780,  26. 

No.  5.  If  ye  gae  up  to  yon  hill-tap.  In  Chambers's  Burns,  1851.  No 
tune  named.  These  sarcastic  lines  on  the  Tarbolton  lasses  are  an  early 
production.  As  Burns  strolled  through  the  village  the  old  wives  came  to  the 
door-step  to  look  and  wag  their  wise  heads  at  the  passenger.  '  Faile '  in  the 
third  stanza,  famous  for  ale,  was  notable  for  an  ancient  monastery,  the  friars  of 
which  in  the  sixteenth  century  were  styled  *  lymmars '  or  villains  in  the  Gud 
and  Godlie  Ballads. 

No.  6.  Her  flowing  locks,  the  raven's  wing.  First  printed  in  Cromek's 
Reliques  of  Robert  Burns,  1808,  44$,  styled  'Fragment,'  and  with  no  indica- 
tion of  a  melody.  No  trustworthy  account  is  attached  to  the  verses,  but 
Cunningham  connects  them  with  'a  Mauchline  lady,'  whom  Scott-Douglas 
conjectures  to  be  Miss  Whitefoord,  the  daughter  of  a  landed  proprietor  there, 
and  a  friend  of  Burns.  The  verses  can  be  sung  to,  and  fit,  Loch  Eroch  Side 
(No.  jrf). 

No.  7.  Had  I  a  cave  on  some  wild  distant  shore.  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
92.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Robin  Adair?  MS. 
at  Brechin  Castle.  This  despairing  lyric  was  written  for  the  tune  which  the 
poet  could  not  get  out  of  his  head,  and  on  the  same  subject  as  No.  33. 
Nowhere  has  Burns  been  more  successful  in  English  than  in  the  present  song. 
For  the  tune  Aileen  a  roon  or  Robin  Adair,  see  No.  45. 

No.  8.  It  was  upon  a  Lammas  night.  Written  about  the  year  1782,  and 
published  in  the  Kilmarnock  Edition,  1786,  222.  Tune,  Corn  rigs  are  bonie. 
Who  this  •  Annie'  was  has  never  been  satisfactorily  settled,  for  several  of  the 
name  with  whom  Burns  was  more  or  less  acquainted  claimed  to  be  the  original. 
According  to  Scott-Douglas,  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  called  Rankine,  who 
lived  within  two  miles  of  Lochlea,  boasted  that  she  was  the  heroine.  The 
fifth  line  of  the  song  in  the  Kilmarnock  and  first  Edinburgh  editions  runs 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL  353 

*  tentless  head,'  instead  of  <  tentless  heed '  in  the  editions  1783  and  1 784.    Both 
the  words  have  a  like  sound,  and  rhyme  with  '  feed.' 

Few  of  Burns's  songs  are  better  known  than  this  one.  Late  in  life  he  said  of 
the  last  stanza  that  it  was  the  best  he  had  ever  written,  and  that  it  came 
nearest  to  his  beau  ideal  of  poetical  perfection.  The  origin  of  the  tune  is 
disputed.  In  Playford's  Choyce  Ayres,  1681,  it  is  entitled  A  Northern  Song. 
In  1 80  Loyal  Songs,  1.685,  IQJ,  it  is  given  as  Sawney  will  never  be  my  love 
again.  It  was  sung  in  Durfey's  The  virtuous  wife,  1680,  beginning,  'Sawney 
was  tall  and  of  noble  race.'  The  music  alone  is  in  Apollo's  .Banqttet,  1687, 
titled  Sawney.  Words  and  music  are  in  Durfey's  IV it  and  Mirth,  1698,  i.  /#, 
and  again  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  i.  316. 

The  first  record  of  the  music  as  a  Scottish  air  is  in  Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730, 
42,  entitled  Corn  rigs  is  bonny.  It  afterwards  was  printed  with  Ramsay's 
words,  beginning,  '  My  Patie  was  a  lover  gay,'  which  had  the  exclusive  use  of 
the  printed  tune,  until  Burns's  gay  lyric  superseded  it.  Whether  a  lost  original 
of  Scottish  extraction  may  have  existed  prior  to  1681,  as  'a  Northern  song,' 
cannot  be  ascertained.  The  melody  by  its  intrinsic  merit  has  maintained  its 
popularity  to  the  present  day,  and  it  is  found  in  every  important  collection  of 
Scottish  song  and  dance  music  of  the  eighteenth  century,  such  as  the  Orpheus 
Caledonitis,  1733,  No.  i8\  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  20;  Bremner's  Scots 
Songs,  1757,  21,  and  many  others.  The  tune  with  Ramsay's  verses  is  in  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  93.  An  old  rustic  song  which  gave  Burns 
the  idea  of  his  Rigs  of  Barley  runs  as  follows  : — 
'  O,  corn  rigs  and  rye  rigs, 

O,  corn  rigs  are  bonie ; 
And  where'er  you  meet  a  bonie  lass 

Preen  up  her  cockernonie.'     (Reliques,  1808,  231.) 

No.  9.  O,  leave  novels,  ye  Mauchline  belles.  Early  verses  published  in 
Currie's  Burns,  1800,  \-j6j  ;  and  with  music  in  Johnson's  Museum,  i-8o3,  NO./TJ. 
The  advice  here  tendered  to  the  Mauchline  belles  was  neglected  by  one,  at 
least,  of  them.  The  music  of  the  text,  originally  published  in  the  Museum, 
is  evidently  a  pipe-tune  of  good  Scottish  type.  The  title  of  the  tune  for 
the  verses  is  marked  Donald  Bhte,  which  I  cannot  trace,  unless  it  be  that  given 
here  under  another  name.  The  original  imprint  of  the  song  has  a  tal  la  lay, 
indicating  a  refrain. 

No.  10.  O,  wha  my  babie-clouts  will  buyP  Glenriddell MS.  'Tune, 
Wharll  bonie  Annie  lie!  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  .277,  signed  '  Z,' 
with  the  tune  East  Nook  of  Fife.  A  note  in  the  M  S.  runs :  '  I  composed 
this  song  pretty  early  in  life,  and  sent  it  to  a  young  girl,  a  very  particular 
acquaintance  of  mine,  who  was  at  that  time  under  a  cloud '  (Reliques,  278}. 
In  the  Law's  MS.  Burns  has  written  '  Mr.  B.'s  old  words.' 

Burns's  tune  for  the  song  was  well  known  last  century  in  Scotland  and  the 
North  of  England.  It  obtained  the  name  that  Burns  quotes,  from  the  first  line 
of  Ramsay's  song,  Where  wad  bonny  Annie  ly,  in  the  Tea-  Table  Miscellany, 
1724.  It  was  known  under  several  titles.  In  a  Northumberland  MS.,  dated 
1694,  it  is  Rood  house  rant;  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1695,  it  is  Red 
house.  The  proper  name,  so  far  as  Scotland  is  concerned,  is  Where  will  (or 
shall]  our  goodman  ly.  The  music  with  that  title  is  in  Watts's  Musical 
Miscellany,  1731,  v.  106 ;  Oswald's  Companion,  £.1755,  vii.  22 ;  and  Aird's  Airs, 
1782,  i.  No.  p/.  In  the  Reliques,  1808,  295,  Burns  quotes  the  following  stanza 
of  a  silly  old  song,  the  original : — 

'  O  whar'll  our  gudeman  lie,  gudeman  lie,  gudeman  lie, 
O  whar'll  our  gudeman  lie,  till  he  shute  o'er  the  simmer? 
Up  amang  the  hen-bawks,  the  hen-bawks,  the  hen-bawks> 
Up  amang  the  hen-bawks,  amang  the  rotten  timmer.' 
A  a 


354  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

I  The  well-known  Westmoreland  hunting  ditty,  '  D'ye  ken  John  Peel,'  is  sung 
to  this  old  melody  Red  house  or  Bonny  Annie  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

No.  11.  Wow  westlin  winds  and  slaughtering  guns.  In  the  Commonplace 
Book,  1872,  47,  entitled  Harste: — a  fragment,  are  eight  lines  substantially  the 
same  as  begins  the  song  which  the  sister  of  Burns  said  was  written  for  Jean 
Armour.  The  complete  song  is  in  the  Kilmarnock  edition,  1786,  224,  entitled 
Song,  composed  in  August.  Tune,  /  had  a  horse,  I  had  nae  mair,  and  the  MS. 
is  in  the  British  Museum.  Burns  changed  the  heroine  to  Peggy  Thomson,  who 
lived  next  door  to  the  Kirkoswald  School,  where  Burns  studied  trigonometry, 
and  she  '  upset  all  my  sines  and  co-sines,  and  it  was  in  vain  to  think  of  doing 
any  more  good  at  school.'  She  subsequently  married  a  Mr.  Neilson,  and 
Burns  was  on  friendly  terms  with  both. 

When  the  song  was  revised,  Burns  altered  the  melody  to  Port  Gordon,  as 
may  be  seen  in  the  Gray  and  Law  MS.  Lists,  but  Johnson  of  the  Museum 
neglected  the  instruction,  and  attached  the  melody  When  the  King  conies  o'er 
the  water,  titling  it  erroneously  Come,  kiss  with  me.  Thomson,  in  Scotish  Airs, 

1799,  93,  mutilated  the  verses,  and  adapted  them  to  the  Irish  air  Ally  Croker. 
The  tune  Port  Gordon,  for  which  Burns  wrote  the  song,  is  in  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  c.  1756,  viii.  .27.    There  is  a  family  resemblance,  but  the  air  is  not 
the  same  as  When  the  King  comes  o"er  the  water. 

No.  12.    Full  well  thou  know'st  I  love  thee,  dear.     Currie,    Works, 

1800,  iv.  26;.     'Tune,  Rothiemttrche.'    Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1801,  121. 
This   is   the   last  work   from   the  pen  of  Burns.      Written  at  Brow  on  the 
Solway  Firth,  where  he  had  gone  for  sea  bathing.     He  casts  his  memory  back 
and  reverts  to  the  time  when  he  met  Charlotte  Hamilton  and  Peggy  Chalmers. 
The  poet  was  conscious  that  this  song  was  not  one  of  his  best,  and  he  explains 
the  reason  in  his  letter  [of  July  12,  1/96]  to  Thomson:    'I  tried  my  hand  on 
Rothiemtirche  this  morning.     The  measure  is  so  difficult  that  it  is  impossible 
to  infuse  much  genius  into  the  lines.'     In  this  letter  he  asks  for  a  loan  of  five 
pounds  in  these  words:    'Curst  necessity  compels  me  to  implore  you  for  five 
pounds.  .  .  .  Do,  for  God's  sake,  send  me  that  sum,  and  that  by  return  of 
post.  ...     I  hereby  promise  and  engage  to  furnish   you  with   five  pounds 
worth  of  the  neatest  song-genius  you  have  seen.'      Shortly  before,  Burns,  by 
request,  assigned  to  Thomson,  without  any  consideration,  the  absolute  copyright 
of  all  the  songs  which  he  had  sent  him  during  the  previous  three  years. 

For  the  tune  Rothiemurche,  see  No.  103. 

No.  13.  Behind  yon  hills  where  Lugar  flows.  Edinburgh  edition,  1787, 
322.  '  Tune,  My  Nanie,  6>.'  In  the  Commonplace  Book  it  is  marked  for  the 
tune  As  I  came  in  by  London,  0,  which  I  cannot  trace.  In  both  copies  the 
first  line  of  the  song  is  '  Behind  yon  hills  where  Stinchar  flows,'  but  the  more 
euphonious  'Lugar'  was  afterwards  adopted.  The  original  of  the  song  is 
supposed  to  be  Annie  Fleming,  the  daughter  of  a  Tarbolton  farmer,  whose 
society  Burns  sought  because  she  was  a  good  singer.  The  song  has  enjoyed 
undiminished  popularity  since  its  original  appearance.  Burns  sent  it  to  George 
Thomson  in  1793  for  his  projected  musical  collection.  The  editor  wished  to 
mend  the  diction,  but  Burns  abruptly  said,  'Now  don't  let  it  enter  your  head 
that  you  are  under  any  necessity  of  taking  my  verses,'  but  Thomson  accepted 
the  song,  and  altered  the  metre  of  the  second  stanza.  Prior  to  Allan  Ramsay's 
Nanny,  0  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724,  there  was  a  London  broadside 
entitled  The  Scotch  Wooing  of  Willy  and  Nanny  to  a  pleasant  New  Tune, 
or  Nanny,  O,  beginning  '  As  I  went  forth  one  morning  fair.'  But  a  popular 
song  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  the  model  of  Burns,  a  fragment  of  which  is 
in  the  Herd  MS.  as  follows,  and  now  printed  for  the  first  time  : — 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL  355 

'  As  I  came  in  by  Edinburgh  toun, 

And  in  by  the  banks  o'  the  city,  O, 
And  there  I  heard  a  young  man  cry, 

And  was  na  that  great  pity,  O  ? 
And  still  he  cried  his  Nanie,  O, 

His  weel  far'd,  comely  Nanie,  O, 
And  a'  the  warld  shall  never  ken 

The  love  that  I  bear  Nanie,  O.' 

Burns  wrote  his  song  about  1782,  and  the  copy  in  his  Commonplace  Book  is 
dated  April,  1 784.  It  is  quite  improbable  that  he  could  have  seen  the  Herd  MS. 
so  early  as  either  year  named,  if  he  ever  saw  it  at  all.  For  some  reason  or 
another  the  editors  of  the  Centenary  Burns  do  not  quote  the  above  lines. 

The  nationality  of  the  music  of  My  Nanie,  0  is  disputed.  The  late  J.  Muir 
Wood  stated  that  the  air  is  in  a  Graham  MS.  of  1 694.  The  earliest  printed  copy 
is  in  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No. 38,  with  Ramsay's  verses  ;  then  in  Ramsay's 
Mustek,  c.  1726;  Watts's  Miscellany,  1730,  iii.  126;  British  Musical  Miscel- 
lany, 1734,  ii.  14 ;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  27;  Oswald's  Caledonian 
Companion,  c.  1753,  v.j  ;  Bremner's  Scots  Songs,  1757, 17  (2nd  series) ;  and  else- 
where. The  tune  is  now  permanently  associated  with  Burns's  song.  Thomson 
wished  to  set  it  to  a  different  melody ;  but  Burns  disapproved,  and  replied  that 
his  subscribers  would  prefer  My  Nanie,  0  set  to  its  own  tune,  and  accordingly 
it  appeared  in  Scotish  Airs,  1793,  4.  The  popularity  of  the  verses  compelled 
their  insertion  in  Johnson's  Museum,  1803,  vi.  No.  jSo;  but  as  the  tune  had 
been  previously  appropriated  to  Ramsay's  verses  in  the  first  volume,  Johnson 
set  it  to  an  English  air  by  Thomas  Ebdon,  a  Durham  musician,  which,  how- 
ever, failed  to  catch  the  public  ear. 

Wo.  14.  True-hearted  was  he,  the  sad  swain  c*  the  Yarrow.  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1798,  46.  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Tune, 
Bonny  Dundee?  Written  for  Miss  Jessie  Staig,  daughter  of  a  Provost  of 
Dumfries,  and  the  lady  who  afterwards  married  Major  William  Miller,  a  son 
of  the  landlord  of  Ellisland.  Mrs.  Miller  died  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-six. 
The  song  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  April,  I793>  to  suit  Bonie  Dundee. 
Thomson  objected  to  a  stiff  line  in  the  song;  Burns  agreed  with  him,  but 
declined  to  make  any  alteration,  as  'it  would  spoil  the  likeness,  so  the  picture 
must  stand.' 

For  the  tune,  see  Song  No.  112. 

No.  15.  Young  Peggy  blooms  our  boniest  lass.  Scots  Musical  Musetim, 
1787,  No.  78,  with  its  tune  Loch  Eroch  Side,  Written  for  Miss  Margaret 
Kennedy,  the  daughter  of  a  small  landed  proprietor,  and  a  relative  of  Mrs.  Gavin 
Hamilton.  She  was  about  seventeen  years  of  age  when  Burns  made  her 
acquaintance.  He  sent  her  a  copy  of  the  verses,  with  a  letter,  in  which 
he  says :  '  Flattery  I  leave  to  your  lovers,  whose  exaggerating  fancies  may 
make  them  imagine  you  are  still  nearer  perfection  than  you  really  are.'  His 
good  wishes  that  she  should  be  preserved  from  all  misfortune  were  very  far 
from  being  realized,  for  she  fell  a  victim  to  a  military  adventurer  of  a  good 
family  like  herself. 

Margaret  Kennedy  was  accomplished  by  birth  and  education,  and  one  of  the 
first  of  Burns's  acquaintances  out  of  his  sphere  of  life.  The  song  resembles  the 
artificially  polished  verses  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  has  not  been  much 
thought  of.  Burns  execrated  his  literary  advisers,  who  compelled  him  to  omit 
this  song  in  the  first  Edinburgh  edition,  and  it  accounts  for  its  early  publication 
in  Johnson's  Miiseiim.  The  tune  is  in  Agnes  Hume's  MS.,  1704,  entitled 
Lady  Strathden's. 

The  words  and  music  are  in  Sime's  Edinburgh  Musical  Miscellany ,  1793,  360. 
Loch  Eroch  Side,  or  Strathspey,  is  now  better  known  as  the  melody  of  Baroness 

A  a  2 


356 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Nairne's  song  The  lass  of  Cowrie.  As  Loch  Eireachd  Side  it  is  in  McGlashan's 
Reels,  1786,  46.  It  is  also  in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No./^j.  It  is  probably 
the  original  of  the  air  which  is  now  usually  set  to  the  song  '  I'm  o'er  young  to 
marry  yet.' 

No.  16.  Altho'  thou  maun  never  be  mine.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1 799,  7/.  •  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Here 's  a  health  to 
them  that^s  azva.'  Burns's  letter  enclosing  this  song  to  Thomson  was  written 
in  May,  1796.  Rheumatism,  cold,  and  fever  were  a  terrible  combination,  and 
Jessie  Lewars,  an  orphan  eighteen -years  of  age,  voluntarily  became  his  nurse. 
She  acted  as  an  eldest  daughter  to  Mrs.  Burns,  and  as  a  mother  to  the  poet's 
children.  Her  attention  to  Burns  was  unflagging  and  incessant ;  her  devotion 
much  affected  him,  and  he  repaid  her  with  a  love-song,  the  only  coin  he  had, 
and  a  copy  of  the  four  printed  volumes  of  the  Scofs  Musical  Museum,  now  in 
the  possession  of  the  Earl  of  Rosebery.  In  his  letter  to  Thomson,  he  writes : 
'  I  once  mentioned  to  you  an  air,  which  I  have  long  admired,  Here  's  a  health 
to  them  that's  aiva,  hiney,  but  I  forgot  if  you  took  any  notice  of  it.  I  have  just 
been  trying  to  suit  it  with  verses,  and  I  beg  leave  to  recommend  the  air  to  your 
attention  once  more.'  The  following  couplet  in  Here  's  a  health  is  exquisite : — 
'  Thou  art  sweet  as  the  smile  when  fond  lovers  meet, 
And  soft  as  their  parting  tear,  Jessy.' 

A  corrected  copy  of  the  song  was  found  among  Burns's  papers,  containing  the 
last  stanza  not  in  the  copy  sent  to  Thomson.  Burns  had  previously  written 
a  political  song  for  the  air  (see  Song  No.  284). 

No.  17.  The  Catrine  woods  were  yellow  seen.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  276,  with  the  music  of  the  Braes  o'  Ballochmyle.  This  autumn  song 
was  written  for  one  of  the  daughters  of  Sir  John  Whitefoord,  Reliques,  277. 
Ballochmyle  had  been  long  in  the  family,  but  the  disastrous  failure  of  the  Ayr 
Bank  in  1772,  of  which  Whitefoord  was  a  partner,  obliged  him  to  sell  the 
estate.  It  is  situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  Ayr,  with  the  Catrine 
woods  on  the  opposite  side.  Burns  had  to  pass  Ballochmyle  and  the  Catrine 
woods  in  his  solitary  circular  walks  from  Mossgiel. 

The  melody  is  the  composition  of  Allan  Masterton,  and  is  unconsciously 
modelled  on  the  psalm-tune  style.  It  is  in  the  modern  scale  throughout,  quite 
distinct  from  the  quaint  progressions  of  the  anonymous  folk-tunes.  Masterton 
was,  however,  more  successful  in  setting  Burns's  verse  to  music  than  the  other 
musical  friends  of  the  poet. 

No.  18.  Stay,  my  charmer,  can  you  leave  me  ?  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  129,  signed  '  B.'  Tune,  An  Gille  dubh  ciar  dubh.  Nothing  is 
known  of  the  origin  of  this  song,  which  is  among  the  Burns's  MSS.  in  the 
British  Museum.  It  is  most  likely  a  souvenir  of  the  Highland  tour  written  for 
a  pretty  simple  Gaelic  air,  Anglice,  The  black-haired  lad,  in  McDonald's  High- 
land Vocal  Airs,  1784,  No.  142. 

No.  19.  My  heart  was  anee  as  blythe  and  free.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  103,  signed  'X,'  entitled,  To  the  -weavers  gin  ye  go.  The  fol- 
lowing note  is  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  :  '  The  chorus  of  this  song  is  old, 
the  rest  of  it  is  mine.  Here,  once  for  all,  let  me  apologize  for  many  silly 
compositions  of  mine  in  this  work.  Many  beautiful  airs  wanted  words;  in  the 
hurry  of  other  avocations,  if  I  could  string  a  parcel  of  rhymes  together  anything 
near  tolerable,  I  was  fain  to  let  them  pass.  He  must  be  an  excellent  poet 
indeed,  whose  every  performance  is  excellent'  (Reliques,  1808,  233).  This 
explains  the  difficulty  in  precisely  ascertaining  how  much  original  matter  Burns 
put  into  songs  which  previously  existed.  In  the  present  case  he  adopted  an 
old  chorus ;  in  some  songs  disjuncted  portions  were  old,  in  others  everything 
but  the  title  was  original.  A  story  connecting  Jean  Armour  With  this  song  is 
not  authenticated. 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  I    PERSONAL 


357 


I 


The  tune  To  the  weaver  s  gin  ye  go  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  16.  It  is  a 
good  melody,  with  considerable  variety ;  the  chorus  starts  in  a  merry  strain,  but 
gets  back  to  the  half-querulous  mood  of  the  verse,  and  ends  in  the  minor.  It 
is  named  in  a  broadside  of  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

No.  20.  How  long  and  dreary  is  the  night.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  J7/.  Tune,  '  A  Galick  air.'  This  is  the  first  of  two  versions.  The 
second  was  a  recast  for  George  Thomson,  who  importuned  Burns  to  write  for 
Cauld  Kail,  a  tune  he  disliked.  Burns  tried  three  songs  for  the  air,  and  his 
middle  one,  How  long  and  dreary,  is  the  best.  In  a  letter  on  the  subject 
he  said,  '  I  met  with  some  such  words  in  a  collection  of  songs  somewhere, 
which  I  altered  and  enlarged  ;  and  to  please  you,  and  to  suit  your  favourite  air 
of  Cauld  Kail,  have  arranged  it  anew.'  In  the  Herd  MS.  there  are  nine  stanzas 
in  a  different  measure,  with  some  similar  ideas  to  Burns,  beginning: — 
'  The  day  begins  to  peep, 

And  the  birds  sing  sweet  and  cheery, 
But  I  maun  rise  and  greet 

And  think  upon  my  deary.' 

The  beautiful  Gaelic  air  originally  published  in  the  Museum  is  very  little 
known.  To  the  student  of  folk-music  all  the  Celtic  airs  selected  by  Burns  are 
well  worth  particular  attention.  They  are  chiefly  sad,  and  redolent  of  a  race 
living  '  on  the  shores  of  a  melancholy  ocean.' 

K"o.  21.  Yon  wild  mossy  mountains.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  }}i.  Signed  'X,'  to  the  tune  Phoebe.  In  the  Interleaved  M^lseum  Burns 
refers  to  the  song  as  belonging  to  a  part  of  his  private  history,  which  was  of  no 
consequence  to  the  public.  Nothing  certain  is  known  of  the  origin  of  the 
verses;  but  Chambers  and  Scott-Douglas  both  agree  in  thinking  that  the 
incident  which  prompted  them  occurred  during  his  first  journey  to  Edinburgh 
in  1786.  Burns  passed  close  to  Tinto  or  'Tintock,'  the  highest  isolated  peak 
of  the  district.  '  Yon  wild  mossy  mountains '  are  the  natural  ramparts  which 
flank  the  upper  Clyde. 

Burns  recommended  George  Thomson  to  republish  his  song,  and  set  it 
to  the  Jacobite  air,  There  II  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  hame  (not  the 
original  melody  of  the  song),  of  which  he  writes,  '  It  is  a  little  irregular  in 
the  flow  of  the  lines,  but  where  two  short  syllables,  that  is  to  say,  one  syllable 
more  than  the  regular  feet — if  these  two  syllables  fall  to  the  space  of  one 
(crotchet  time),  composed  of  two  different  quavers  under  a  slur,  it  has,  I 
think,  no  bad  effect  to  divide  them'  {Letter,  July,  1793).  The  explanation, 
although  a  little  clumsily  expressed,  is  very  interesting,  as  it  shows  that  Burns 
carefully  studied  his  verses  from  a  musical  basis,  and  that  he  was  sensitive 
to  minute  differences  in  musical  sound.  Johnson  had  published  the  song  with 
the  proper  melody,  and  Thomson  doubtless  suggested  another  tune. 

The  tune  Phoebe,  here  reprinted,  is  the  composition  of  James  Oswald, 
musician  and  publisher  of  much  Scottish  music  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  I  find  the  air  in  Universal  Harmony,  1745, 119,  and  in  his  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  19. 

No.  22.  Anna,  thy  charms  my  bosom  fire.  Edinburgh  edition,  1793, 
ii.  226',  and  with  music  in  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  jjo,  and  a  foot- 
note, 'written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  According  to  the  Centenary 
Burns,  the  lines  were  first  printed  in  the  Star  newspaper,  April  18,  1789. 
Scott-Douglas  identified  '  Anna '  as  Miss  Ann  Stewart,  who  was  engaged  to  be 
married  to  the  poet's  friend,  Alexander  Cunningham.  Burns  knew  the  lady, 
but  not  intimately,  and  the  verses  were  written  on  account  of  his  friend. 

The  tune  Bonny  Mary  is  the  composition  of  James  Oswald,  and  is  in  his 
Curious  Collection  Scots  Tunes,  \  740,  // ;  also  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, 1 743,  i.  24.  It  is  a  good  melody  of  the  professional  style  of  the 


358 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


eighteenth  century,  but  I  am  unable  to  find  any  authority  under  the  hand  of 
Burns  that  he  wrote  his  verses  for  the  air. 

No.  23.  'Twas  even — the  dewy  fields  were  green.  Th.e  Polyhymnia, 
No.  18  [1799];  Currie,  Works,  1800,  i.  125  (no  tune  named);  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1801,  108,  set  to  an  unauthorized  tune,  Johnny  s  gray  breeks. 
The  'Lass  o'  Ballochmyle' — Miss  Wilhelmina  Alexander  —  was  the  sister  of 
the  proprietor  of  the  estate  of  Ballochmyle.  The  poet  saw  her  for  the  first 
time  as  he  was  taking  a  solitary  stroll  in  the  evening.  He  sent  her  a  copy  of  the 
verses,  with  a  request  that  she  would  permit  him  to  publish  them,  but  she  took 
no  notice  of  the  request.  Many  years  after,  when  the  poet  had  become  famous, 
and  she  was  a  maiden  past  her  prime,  she  had  the  song  and  the  letter  framed, 
and  hung  them  up  in  the  hall.  The  letter,  dated  Nov.  18,  1786,  describes  the 
circumstances  under  which  the  song  had  been  written.  Burns  wished  this  song 
and  Young  Peggie  blooms  (No.  if)  inserted  in  the  Edinburgh  edition  of  his  works, 
but  the  literary  tasters  dissuaded  him  from  it,  and  neither  was  printed. 

Ettrick  Banks,  for  which  the  song  was  written,  is  named  in  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Stewart  of  Stair,  which  enclosed  a  copy  of  the  verses.  The  tune  is  named 
in  the  original  publication  Polyhymnia,  The  music  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
1733,  No.  4J}  to  pastoral  verses  beginning: — 

'  On  Ettrick  banks  in  a  summer's  night, 

At  gloaming  when  the  sheep  drove  hame, 
I  met  my  lassy  bra'  and  tight, 

Cam  wading  barefoot,  a'  her  lane : 
My  heart  grew  light,  I  ran,  I  flang 

My  arms  about  her  lily  neck, 
And  kiss'd  and  clap'd  her  there  fu'  lang, 

My  words  they  were  na'  mony  feck.' 

This  song  was  afterwards  printed  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Tea-Table 
Miscellany,  1740.  The  tune  is  in  Oswald's  Ctirious  Collection  Scots  Tunes, 
1740,  28-,  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  23  \  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1751,  iii.  i6\  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  81,  and  every  important 
collection  of  vocal  music  of  the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

No.  24.  As  I  gaed  up  by  yon  gate-end.  Aldine  edition,  1839.  First 
published  anonymously  in  the  Edinburgh  Magazine,  1818.  It  appears  that 
the  Aldine  editor  printed  the  verses  from  a  MS.  which  contained  only  the 
twelve  lines  as  reprinted  here.  No  tune  is  named. 

No.  25.  How  pleasant  the  banks  of  the  clear  winding  Devon.  Scots 
Musical  ^Museum,  1788,  No.  jr/7,  signed  '  B.'  Tune,  Bhannerach  dhon  na 
chri.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  '  These  verses  were  composed 
on  a  charming  girl,  a  Miss  Charlotte  Hamilton,  who  is  now  married  to 
James  McKitrick  Adair,  Physician.  She  is  sister  to  my  worthy  friend  Gavin 
Hamilton,  of  Mauchline ;  and  was  born  on  the  banks  of  the  Ayr,  but  was,  at 
the  time  I  wrote  these  lines  [Oct.,  1787],  residing  at  Harvieston,  Clack- 
mannanshire,  on  the  romantic  banks  of  the  little  river  Devon.  I  first  heard 
the  air  from  a  lady  in  Inverness,  and  got  the  notes  taken  down  for  this  work ' 
(i.e.  the  Scots  Mtisical  Museunt}.  (Reliques,  1808,  243?) 

The  tune,  Anglice,  The  brown  dairy  maid,  communicated  by  Burns,  was 
originally  published  in  the  Museum  with  his  song.  Another,  but  different 
rudimentary  melody  of  the  same  title  is  in  McDonald's  Highland  Airs,  1784, 

No.  20J. 

No.  26.  The  flower  it  blaws,  it  fades,  it  fa's.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  471,  entitled  Lovely  Polly  Stewart.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  Polly  was  the  young  daughter  of  William  Stewart  of  Burns's  song 
'You're  welcome,  Willie  Stewart.'  According  to  Scott-Douglas,  without 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL 


359 


quoting  authority,  she  married  her  cousin,  by  whom  she  had  three  sons; 
he  fell  into  some  scrape  which  compelled  him  to  abscond.  Polly  afterwards 
contracted  a  quasi-matrimonial  alliance  with  a  farmer  named  George  Welsh, 
but,  as  they  could  not  agree,  they  separated.  In  1806  she  lived  with  her  father 
at  Maxwelton,  who  was  no  longer  factor  of  Closeburn.  There  Polly  picked  up 
an  acquaintance  with  a  Swiss  soldier  named  Fleitz,  with  whom  she  went 
abroad,  and  after  many  wanderings  died  at  Florence  in  1847. 

Burns's  song  was  formed  on  one  of  the  Jacobite  ballads  made  after  the 
rebellion  of  1745.  The  tune  is  entitled  Queensberry  House  in  Bremner's  Reels, 
1758,  40,  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  101.  It  is  said  to  be  in  Walsh's  Cale- 
donian Country  Dances,  c.  1736,  under  the  title  The  Confederacy.  In  1749, 
on  the  anniversary  of  the  Battle  of  Culloden,  some  English  officers  in  the  dress 
circle  of  the  Canongate  Theatre,  Edinburgh,  called  on  the  orchestra  to 
play  Culloden,  which  incensed  the  audience,  who  retaliated  by  demanding 
Ye* re  welcome,  Charlie  Stewart.  A  riot  ensued,  and  the  officers  got  the 
worst  of  it.  The  lively  air  Culloden  is  very  little  known ;  the  following  is 
a  copy  from  Johnson's  Two  Hundred  New  Country  Dances,  1748  :  — 


No.  27.  From  thee,  Eliza,  I  must  go.  Kilmarnock  edition,  1786,  227. 
'  Tune,  Gilderoy.'  Burns  recommended  Thomson  to  insert  the  song  in  his 
collection;  but  in  Scotish  Airs,  1793,  i.  //,  he  set  it  to  a  wrong  tune. 
'Eliza'  was  very  likely  one  of  the  Mauchline  belles. 

Gilderoy  is  the  tune  of  a  celebrated  seventeenth  century  ballad  of  the  same  name. 
It  is  a  corruption  oi  Gillieroy,  the  red-haired  lad,  applied  to  Patrick  Macgregor, 
a  native  of  the  Lomonds,  of  the  same  clan,  or  sept,  as  the  notorious  Rob  Roy. 
He  pursued  the  business  of  a  cattle-lifter,  and  by  his  courage  and  audacity 
raised  himself  to  be  the  leader  of  a  band  of  Caterans,  who  scoured  the  country 
from  Strathspey  to  Strathdee.  According  to  the  Privy  Council  Records, 
Gillieroy  and  his  band  sorned  through  the  whole  bounds  of  Strathspey,  Brae- 
mar,  Cromar,  and  the  districts  thereabouts,  oppressing  the  common  people, 
violently  taking  from  them  their  meat,  drink,  and  provisions,  and  their  'haill 
goods.'  In  those  days  the  Argyle  family  acted  as  the  hereditary  police,  and 
Lord  Lorn  tried  to  stamp  out  the  system  of  robbery  carried  on  by  the  lawless 
Celts.  He  captured  Gillieroy  about  July,  1636,  and  nine  other  notorious 
ruffians,  who  were  charged  with  plundering  the  house  of  William  Stewart 
on  the  romantic  isle  of  Inchcailloch  in  Loch  Lomond,  and  making  a  clean 
sweep  of  the  island  and  the  premises,  including  the  title-deeds  of  the  property. 
The  whole  band  were  convicted  and  hanged  in  Edinburgh,  Gillieroy  and  his 


36° 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


henchman,  John  Forbes,  having  the  honour  of  suffering  on  a  gallows  *ane 
degree  higher'  than  the  others,  and  of  having  their  heads  stuck  on  a  pole 
and  exhibited  at  the  city  gate  as  a  warning  to  other  evil-doers.  A  few  years 
after  the  execution  a  black-letter  ballad  was  printed  in  London,  entitled  The 
Scotch  Lover  s  Lamentation  ;  or  Gilderoy's  Last  Farewell.  The  verses,  in  ten 
double  stanzas,  are  assumed  to  be  written  by  his  paramour,  who  laments  the 
untimely  fate  of  her  *  bonny  boy.'  In  course  of  time  he  was  canonized  and 
admitted  into  the  Newgate  Calendar.  His  biography  is  in  A  compleat  History 
of  the  Lives  and  Robberies  of  the  most  notorious  Highwaymen^  Foot-pads,  &c., 
&c.,  printed  in  London,  1719.  He  is  there  depicted  as  having  set  his  mother's 
house  on  fire,  ill-used  his  sister,  fled  to  France,  picked  Cardinal  Richelieu's 
pocket  in  the  King's  presence,  returned  to  England,  hanged  a  judge,  then  been 
taken  prisoner,  and  executed  in  Scotland. 

The  popularity  of  Gilderoy  may  be  judged  from  the  fact  that  there  are 
at  least  four  different  versions  of  the  ballad.  The  broadside  was  copied 
into  Collection  of  Ballads,  London,  1723,  271,  but  a  short  version  of  five 
stanzas  was  previously  published  in  Westminster  Drollery,  1671, 122,  entitled 
A  Scotch  Song,  called  Gilderoy.  The  third  and  best-known  version  is  that 
of  thirteen  stanzas  attributed  to  the  pen  of  Lady  Wardlaw,  the  reputed 
authoress  of  Hardy  Knute.  Here  the  indelicacies  of  the  older  versions  are 
pruned,  apd  this  is  the  one  copied  into  Percy's  Reliques,  wanting  a  stanza,  and 
in  all  modern  collections  of  ballads.  The  fourth  version  in  seven  stanzas, 
preceding  the  last-named  in  order  of  time,  is  the  best  of  the  series,  and  is 
written  in  vigorous  and  graphic  language.  It  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
1733,  No.  47,  with  the  tune  here  set  to  the  verses  of  Burns. 

The  ballad  had  two  tunes  in  England.  In  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  v.jy,  the 
original  verses  are  set  '  to  a  new  tune,'  from  which  it  may  be  inferred  that 
there  was  an  earlier  one.  The  Scottish  tune  has  no  striking  family  resemblance 
to  that  in  the  Pills  >  except  in  the  cadence.  The  Scottish  tune  is  in  Ramsay's 
Mustek,  c.  1726 ;  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  20  ;  McGibbon's 
Scots  Tunes,  1742,  26  ;  and  in  Bremner's  Scots  Songs,  17*57,  10,  with  the  verses 
beginning, 'Ah!  Chloris.' 

No.  28.  Where,  braving  angry  winter's  storms.  Scot's  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  iyj,  signed  « R.'  Tune,  N.  Gozv's  Lamentation  for 
Abercairney.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Miss  Margaret  Chalmers 
was  the  subject  of  this  and  the  next  song.  The  acquaintance  ripened  into 
intimacy,  and  an  active  correspondence  began,  lasting  from  October  26, 
1787,  to  September  16,  1788.  Peggy  Chalmers  is  described  as  having 
large  and  bright  hazel  eyes,  white,  regular  teeth,  and  possessing  a  charm 
in  her  face  not  always  the  result  or  accompaniment  of  fine  features.  Her 
figure  was  short,  but  faultless ;  she  spoke  easily  and  well,  but  preferred 
listening  to  others.  Some  of  the  letters  to  her  are  among  the  finest  Burns 
wrote.  They  are  remarkable  for  an  easy  flowing  style,  apparently  spon- 
taneous, and  penned  without  effort.  He  took  her  into  his  confidence,  and 
discussed  his  affairs  in  a  frank  and  confidential  manner.  She  exercised 
considerable  influence  over  him,  and  he  invariably  spoke  of  her  in  the  highest 
terms.  Dr.  Blacklock  said  that  Burns  always  paid  her  the  most  respectful 
deference.  None  of  her  letters  have  been  preserved,  but  his  letters  to  her 
are  uniformly  excellent,  and  the  correspondence  ceased  only  a  short  time 
before  her  marriage  with  Mr.  Lewis  Hay,  a  partner  in  the  distinguished 
banking  house  of  Sir  William  Forbes  &  Co.,  the  founders  of  Coutts  &  Co. 
Mrs.  Hay  was  left  a  widow  in  the  year  1800,  and  died  in  Switzerland  in  1843. 

This  song  and  the  next  were  sent  to  the  lady  with  an  intimation  that  he 
intended  to  print  them.  She  objected,  and  he  contested  the  point.  Both 
were  sent  to  the  editor  of  the  Museum,  the  present  song  being  inserted,  but  the 
other,  My  Peggy's  Face,  was  suspended  for  more  than  fifteen  years. 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL 


The  tune,  Lamentation  for  Abercairney,  is  the  composition  of  Niel  Gow, 
and  printed  in  his  Collection  of  Reels,  1784,  and  Aird'sAirs,  1788,  iii.  NO./-/.Z. 

No.  29.  My  Peggy's  face,  my  Peggy's  form.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  398.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1801,  206,  'Peggy'  being  altered  to  '  Mary,' 
and  set  to  an  unauthorized  air.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  joi, 
'  written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns,'  which  is  strictly  accurate.  Johnson 
having  been  forestalled,  printed  in  the  Museum  with  the  song  a  letter  from 
Burns,  in  which  he  states  that  he  has  a  very  strong  private  reason  for  wishing 
the  song  in  the  second  volume.  It  is  very  probable  that  Peggy  Chalmers 
directly  or  indirectly  was  the  cause  of  the  delay,  as  she  objected  to  be  publicly 
criticized.  Burns  records  in  his  MS.  Joists  that  Johnson  took  a  copy  of  the 
Celtic  tune,  Ha  a"  chaillich,  for  which  the  verses  were  written,  but  was  in 
doubt  whether  the  music  suited,  and  referred  the  matter  to  the  professional 
musical  editor,  who  evidently  decided  against  the  tune.  Whether  the  poet  then 
selected  the  good  melody  in  the  text,  My  Peggy 's  face,  is  not  known,  but  it  was 
originally  printed  in  the  Museum  with  Burns's  song,  and  remains  its  proper  . 
tune.  For  a  copy  of  Ha  a'  chaillich,  see  Dow's  Scots  Music.  A  copy  is  in  ^ 
Glen's  Early  Scottish  Melodies,  1900,  21  j. 

No.  30.  By  Oughtertyre  grows  the  aik.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  180,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Blythe  was  she,  with  the  music  of  Andro  and  his 
cutty  gun.  In  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  61.  Burns's  second  visit  to  the 
Highlands  was  the  fulfilment  of  a  promise  to  Sir  William  Murray  of  Ochtertyre, 
in  the  lovely  valley  of  the  Earn,  Perthshire.  The  poet  was  entertained  for 
about  ten  days,  and  there  he  met  Euphemia  Murray,  a  cousin  of  his  host,  aged 
eighteen  years,  who  was  known  as  the  Flower  of  Strathmore.  She  was  the 
subject  of  the  present  song,  and  did  not  appreciate  the  honour  of  being  put 
into  verse.  She  married  Mr.  Smythe  of  Methven  Castle,  who  became  one  of 
the  judges  of  the  Court  of  Session  (Reliques,  1808,  ajj). 

The  tune  Andro  and  his  cutty  gun  belongs  to  a  brilliant  vernacular  song  of 
the  same  name,  first  printed  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1740.  This  song  was 
exceedingly  popular  in  the  eighteenth  century  at  all  peasants'  feasts.  It 
describes  an  alehouse  and  the  joyous  condition  of  the  guests,  in  the  peculiar 
humour  of  the  social  songs  of  Scotland.  Many  imitations  have  been  written, 
but  none  equals  the  original,  still  often  printed.  The  two  following  stanzas  are 
excellent : — 

'  When  we  had  three  times  toom'd  our  stoup, 

And  the  niest  chappin  new  begun, 
In  started,  to  heeze  up  our  hope ; 

Young  Andro  wi'  his  cutty  gun. 


The  carlin  brought  her  kebbuck  ben, 

With  girdle  cakes  weel  toasted  brown 
Weel  does  the  canny  kimmer  ken 

They  gar  the  scuds  gae  glibber  down/ 

The  paraphrase  of  the  last  four  lines  is,  Well  did  the  old  landlady  know 
that  cheese  and  toasted  cakes  made  the  ale  more  palatable,  and  disappear  the 
quicker. 

The  tune  is  in  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1754,  vi.  4.',  Aird's  Airs, 
1782,  ii.  No.  _;;;  in  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  ^7;  Calliope,  1788, 
410 ;  and  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  i.  268.  In  the  Merry  Miises  there  is 
a  version  of  Andro  and  his  cutty  gun,  beginning : — 

'When  a'  the  lave  gaed  to  their  bed, 
And  I  sat  up  to  clean  the  shoon, 
O  wha  think  ye  cam  jumpin  ben 
But  Andro  and  his  cutty  gun  ? ' 


362 


HISTORICAL    NOTfiS 


No.  31.  A  rosebud,  by  my  early  walk.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  189,  signed  '  B.'  ri  he  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  '  Rosebud '  was 
a  little  girl  of  twelve  years,  the  only  child  of  William  Cruikshank,  Classical 
Master  in  the  High  School  of  Edinburgh,  with  whom  Burns  resided  after  his 
return  from  the  Highland  tour.  The  poet  stayed  with  Cruikshank  from 
September,  1787,  to  February,  1788,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  days'  visit  to 
Sir  William  Murray  at  Ochteityre.  During  this  period  he  was  principally 
occupied  in  writing  songs  for  the  second  volume  of  the  Museum.  The  '  Rosebud ' 
for  her  years  was  an  accomplished  player  on  the  harpsichord,  and  Burns  was 
intensely  interested  in  her  singing  and  playing  the  songs  he  was  preparing 
for  publication.  In  this  way  he  tested  his  verses  with  the  melodies.  He  was 
so  absorbed  in  this  occupation  that  it  was  difficult  to  draw  his  attention  from  it. 
Burns  displays  his  tenderness  and  love  of  children  in  the  song,  and  as  a  mark 
of  gratitude  to  the  child  he  freely  distributed  copies  among  his  friends.  '  The 
air  is  by  a  David  Sillar,  quondam  merchant,  and  now  Schoolmaster  in  Irvine. 
He  is  the  Davie  to  whom  I  address  my  printed  poetical  epistle  in  the  measure 
of  the  Cherry  and  the  Slae'  (Reliqttes,  1808,  2j8).  I  suppose  that  this  is  the 
first  reprint  of  the  tune  since  it  was  published  in  the  Museum  as  transmitted  by 
Burns,  and  it  would  not  be  reproduced  now  if  Burns  had  not  made  his  song  for 
it.  It  is  an  attempt  in  Strathspey  style,  containing  unvocal  intervals  which 
unfit  it  for  performance. 

No.  32.  Musing  on  the  roaring  ocean.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  z;p,  signed  'R.'  Tune,  Druimionn  dubh.  The  MS.  of  the  verses  is 
in  the  British  Museum.  Written  on  account  of  a  Mrs.  McLachlan,  whose 
husband  was  an  officer  in  the  East  India  Company's  service,  on  duty  abroad 
(Reliqttes,  1808,  254}.  It  may  be  remarked  that,  although  Burns  lived  in  the 
view  of  the  sea  for  many  years,  its  immensity  or  grandeur  does  not  appear  to 
have  impressed  him.  This  is  his  only  sea-song.  Mountains  and  natural 
scenery  he  passed  over  in  the  same  way.  His  genius  lay  in  studying  and  dis- 
secting human  life.  •  For  inorganic  matter  with  the  modern  pan  gloss  he  cared 
little  or  nothing.  His  diary  of  the  Highland  tour  contains  few  or  no  remarks 
on  the  beautiful  scenery  he  passed  through.  In  a  fragment  in  the  Herd  MS., 
now  first  printed  below,  the  same  idea  occurs  as  in  the  third  line  of  Burns. 
Thus  :— 

'  But  he 's  awa,  and  very  far  frae  hame, 

And  sair,  sair  I  fear  I'll  ne'er  see  him  again; 

But  I  will  weary  Heav'n  to  keep  him  in  its  care, 

For  O!   he's  good— and  good  men  are  rare.' 

The  tune  Druimionn  dubh,  Anglice,  The  black  cow,  is  in  Corri's  Scots  Songs, 
1783,  ii.  29,  and  McDonald's  Highland  Airs,  1784,  No.  89.  Sir  Samuel 
Ferguson  translated  the  fragment  of  an  Irish  Jacobite  lyric  oh  James  the  Second 
with  the  title  of  the  tune.  The  last  stanza  is — 

'  Welcome  home,  welcome  home,  druimion  dubh,  O  ! 
Good  was  your  sweet  milk  for  drinking,  I  trow ; 
W7ith  your  face  like  a  rose,  and  your  dewlap  of  snow, 
I'll  part  from  you  never,  ah,  druimion  dubh,  O  !' 

Another  but  different  air  of  the  same  title  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, c.  1756,  viii.  12. 

No.  33.  She  'a  fair  and  fause  that  causes  my  smart.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  398,  signed  '  R.' ;  and  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  40. 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  This  sprang  from  the  heated  imagination 
of  the  poet  about  the  middle  of  January,  1789,  on  reading  an  account  of  the 
marriage  of  Miss  Ann  Stewart,  the  subject  of  Song  No.  22.  She  had  been 
engaged  to  his  intimate  friend,  Alexander  Cunningham,  W.S.,  and  jilted  him. 
As  soon  as  Burns  heard  the  news,  he  wrote  an  indignant  letter  of  condolence  to 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  I    PERSONAL 


his  friend,  who  however  survived  the  disappointment,  and  married  four  years 
later. 

The  tune  The  lads  of  Leith  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752, 
iv.  31.  It  is  a  graceful  combination  of  the  major  and  the  minor  modes. 
Mr.  Glen  states  that  the  music  is  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances  some 
years  earlier  than  the  above  date. 

No.  34.  Now  Spring  has  clad  the  grove  in  green.  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1799,  p-r.  *  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  The  MS.  is  in 
the  Thomson  Collection.  This  address  of  condolement  with  Alexander 
Cunningham  is  on  the  same  subject  as  the  preceding  song.  Burns  intended 
Stephen  Clarke  to  compose  for  the  verses,  but  nothing  came  of  it,  and  the  song 
has  no  original  melody.  Thomson  obtained  a  copy  of  the  verses  in  the 
beginning  of  August,  1795,  and  published  them  with,  the  old  tune  of  Auld 
lang  syne,  disguised  under  a  new  title,  The  hopeless  lover,  which  he  lifted 
bodily  from  the  Scots  Musical  Museum.  There  is  no  doubt  about  the  source, 
because  Johnson's  setting  of  the  tune  is  considerably  different  from  all  previous 
copies.  Thomson  did  precisely  the  same  thing  with  the  popular  tune,  0,  can 
ye  labour  lea  for  Burns' s  Auld  lang  syne. 

No.  35.  O,  wilt  thou  go  wi*  me,  sweet  Tibbie  Bunbar.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No.  207,  entitled  '  Tibbie  Dunbar.  'T  \\I\Q,  Johnny  MCGHI.'  The 
MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  In  Law's  Museum  MS.  List,  Burns  has 
written  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words.'  Nothing  is  known  of  the  subject  of  the 
verses,  which  were  written  to  illustrate  the  melody.  Riddell's  Note  (not 
Burns's)  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  is  '  This  tune  is  said  to  be  the  composition 
of  John  McGill,  fiddler,  in  Girvan.'  An  old  song  in  the  Merry  Muses  is  marked 
for  the  tune,'  the  first  stanza  of  which  is  : — 

'  Duncan  Macleerie  and  Janet  his  wife, 
They  gaed  to  Kilmarnock  to  buy  a  new  knife ; 
But  instead  of  a  knife  they  coft  but  a  bleerie  : 
"  We're  very  weel  sair'd,"  quo'  Duncan  Macleerie.' 

The  nationality  of  the  tune  is  disputed ;  on  some  slender  evidence  it  is 
claimed  as  Irish.  In  Scotland  it  is  now  best  known  with  MacNeil's  song, 
Come  under  my  plaidie.  The  music  is  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  ji,  and 
Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  119. 

No.  36.  Fate  gave  the  word — the  arrow  sped.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  271,  signed  *  B,'  entitled  'A  mother's  lament  for  the  death  of  her 
son.  Tune,  Finlayston  house!  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  <//.  'Mr. 
Burns's  words  '  (Law's  MS.  List}.  These  lines  were  written  for  Mrs.  Ferguson 
of  Craigdarroch,  who  had  lost  a  promising  son,  eighteen  years  of  age,  in 
November,  1787.  'I  have  just  arrived  [Mauchline]  from  Nithsdale,  and  will 
be  here  a  fortnight.  I  was  on  horseback  this  morning  (for  between  my  wife 
and  my  farm  there  is  just  forty-six  miles)  by  three  o'clock.  As  I  jogged  on  in 
the  dark,  I  was  taken  with  a  poetic  fit'  (Letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop, September  27, 
1788). 

The  eulogistic  Note  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  on  the  tune  and  its  composer 
is  by  Robert  Riddell,  and  not  written  by  Burns,  as  Cromek  makes  it  appear  in 
Reliques,  1808, 303.  Posterity  has  not  endorsed  Riddell's  opinion  of  the  melody. 
John  Riddel  had  no  doubt  the  gift  of  melody ;  in  his  collection  of  Scots  Reels, 
1782  (the  tune  is  on  page  55),  there  are  some  good  specimens  of  folk-music. 
He  died  at  Ayr  on  April  5,  1795,  aged  seventy-six  years. 

No.  37.  The  day  returns,  my  bosom  burns.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  224,  signed  'R.'  Tune,  Seventh  of  November.  'Mr.  B.'s  words' 
(Law's  MS.  List}.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1798,  28,  with  the  music.  'I  composed  this  song  out  of  compliment 


364 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


to  one  of  the  happiest  and  worthiest  of  married  couples  in  the  world,  Robert 
Riddell,  Esq.,  of  Glenriddell,  and  his  lady.  At  their  fireside  I  have  enjoyed 
more  pleasant  evenings  than  at  all  the  houses  of  fashionable  people  in  this 
country  put  together ;  and  to  their  kindness  and  hospitality  I  am  indebted  for 
many  of  the  happiest  hours  of  my  life  '  (Reliques,  1808,  269).  The  leaf  of  the 
Interleaved  Museum  where  this  has  been  written  is  now  wanting.  Living  alone  in 
an  old  weather-worn  house,  on  the  banks  of  the  Nith,  the  poet  was  particularly 
grateful  for  the  Riddell  hospitality.  This  country  gentleman  was  the  brother- 
in-law  of  Maria  Riddell,  whom  we  shall  come  across  by-and-by.  He  was  an 
antiquarian  and  amateur  musician.  It  was  in  his  house  that  the  appalling 
Bacchanalian  contest  took  place  commemorated  in  The  Whistle.  A  letter  of 
September  16,  1788,  to  Peggy  Chalmers,  fixed  the  date  when  The  day  returns 
was  written.  '  Johnson's  collection  of  songs  is  going  on  in  the  third  volume ;  and, 
of  consequence,  finds  me  a  consumpt  for  a  great  deal  of  idle  metre.  One  of  the 
most  tolerable  things  I  have  done  in  that  way  is  two  stanzas  that  I  made  to  an 
air  a  musical  gentleman  of  my  acquaintance  composed  for  the  anniversary  of 
his  wedding-day,  which  happens  on  the  seventh  of  November.' 

The  tune  of  Riddell's  is  in  his  New  Music,  1787.  Burns  was  generally  and 
generously  wrong  when  he  adopted  the  melodies  of  his  personal  friends.  There 
are  some  exceptions,  but  his  amiability  obscured  his  judgement  in  most  cases. 

No.  38.  Ye  gallants  bright,  I  rede  ye  right.  Scots  Musical  Mttseum, 
1790,  No.  215,  signed  'X,'  entitled  Beware  o1  bonie  Ann.  Written  in  1788, 
according  to  Stenhouse;  but  Scott-Douglas,  with  better  authority,  places  it  a  year 
later — February,  1789 — when  the  poet  was  in  Edinburgh.  « I  composed  this 
song  out  of  compliment  to  Miss  Ann  Masterton,  the  daughter  of  my  friend, 
Allan  Masterton,  the  author  of  the  air  of  Strathallan *s  Lament,  and  two  or 
three  others  in  this  work  '  (Reliques,  1808,  266).  The  lady  of  the  song 
subsequently  married  a  medical  doctor  of  Bath,  and  died  in  1834. 

The  tune  Bonie  Ann  is  the  composition  of  Allan  Masterton.  Internal 
evidence  proves  it  to  be  a  modern  melody. 

No.  39.  I  gaed  a  waefu*  gate  yestreen.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  294,  entitled  The  bhie-eyed  lassie.  '  Mr.  Burns' s  words '  (Law's  MS. 
List}.  This  charming  song  was  written  on  the  daughter  of  Andrew  Jeffrey, 
the  parish  minister  of  Lochmaben.  He  admired  Burns,  who  stayed  in  his 
house  on  several  occasions  whilst  on  his  Excise  excursions.  The  poet  presented 
the  song  to  Jean  Jeffrey — then  about  fifteen  years  of  age — with  a  copy  of 
O,  Willie  brew'd  a  peck  o'  maut,  shortly  after  dining  in  William  Nicol's 
cottage  at  Moffat,  which  the  irascible  schoolmaster  had  rented  as  a  summer 
residence,  on  account  of  his  daughter's  health.  Miss  Jeffrey  was  a  minor  poet ; 
her  memoirs  and  a  collected  edition  of  her  writings  were  published  in  1850. 
She  became  a  Mrs.  Ren  wick  of  New  York,  and  died  there  about  1850. 

Few  of  Burns's  lyrics  surpass  this  one,  and  it  is  a  pity  the  poet  did  not  choose 
a  more  suitable  melody  out  of  the  Scottish  garner,  instead  of  adopting  the 
composition  of  Robert  Riddell  contained  in  his  New  Music,  1787.  It  is 
by  no  means  the  worst  of  that  musical  amateur's  melodies,  but  it  is  spoiled 
by  the  prodigious  compass  of  more  than  two  octaves,  which  renders  it  unsing- 
able.  In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  of  October  29,  1788,  Burns  states  that  the 
song  was  written  for  Riddell's  composition. 

No.  40.  Blythe  hae  I  been  on  yon  hill.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
j8,  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  The  Quaker's  Wife.'  The 
second  song  for  Miss  Lesley  Baillie.  Burns  thought  this  one  of  his  finest  songs, 
and  enthusiastically  affirms  that  the  lady  was  positively  the  most  beautiful 
young  woman  in  the  world.  He  transmitted  the  verses  to  Thomson  about 
June,  1793.  And  of  the  tune  The  Quaker's  Wife,  he  says:  'Mr.  Fraser 
plays  it  slow,  and  with  an  expression  that  quite  charms  me.  I  got  such  an 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL 


365 


enthusiast  in  it  that  I  made  a  song  for  it,  which  I  here  subjoin,  and  enclose 
Eraser's  set  of  the  tune.  If  they  hit  your  fancy,  they  are  at  your  service ;  if  not, 
return  me  the  tune,  and  I  will  put  it  in  Johnson's  Museum.'  The  music  in  the 
text  is  from  Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  jj,  entitled  Merrily  dance  the  Quaker.  In 
a  letter  of  October,  1793,  Burns  stated  that  'an  old  gentleman,  a  deep  anti- 
quarian,' knew  The  Quakers  Wife  as  a  Gaelic  air  by  the  name  of  Leiger  'm 
choss,  and  that  the  words  of  the  West  Country  fragment  of  the  song  were  as 
follows : — 

'Leiger  'm  choss,  my  bonie  wee  lass, 

Leiger  'm  choss,  my  dearie; 
A*  the  lee-lang  winter  night, 

Leiger  'm  choss,  my  dearie.' 

A  song  of  Burns  for  the  tune  is  in  Merry  Muses,  beginning : — 
'  Come  rede  me  dame,  come  tell  me  dame, 
My  dame  come  tell  me  truly,'  &c. 

No.  41.  Yestreen  I  had  a  pint  o*  wine.  Stewart's  Edition,  1802; 
Cromek's  Scotish  Songs,  1810,  i.  61.  Tune,  Banks  of  Banna.  The  Globe 
Tavern,  Dumfries,  was  the  head  quarters  of  Burns  when  he  was  there  on  Excise 
business,  while  the  niece  of  the  landlady,  Anna  Park — '  the  lass  with  the  gowden 
locks' — was  drawer  and  general  waitress.  A  copy  of  the  verses,  with  some  verbal 
alterations,  is  in  the  Merry  Muses. 

Burns  considered  this  his  best  love-song,  although  he  never  intended  to  publish 
it;  and  several  years  after  it  was  written  he  tried  to  persuade  George  Thomson 
to  insert  a  different  version  in  his  collection  with  the  tune  The  Banks  of  Banna. 
Thomson  did  not  print  the  new  version,  which  is  now  unknown. 

The  tune — an  Irish  melody  in  Corn's  Scots  Songs,  1783,  14;  in  Musical 
Miscellany,  Perth,  1786,  7;  ;  and  Calliope,  1788,  i — is  best  known  by  the  song 
'Shepherds,  I  have  lost  my  love,'  in  The  Charmer,  Edinburgh,  1782,  ii.  176, 
written  by  the  Right  Honourable  George  Ogle,  who  represented  Dublin  in 
1799,  and  voted  against  the  Union.  The  scene  of  his  more  celebrated  song 
Molly  Asthore,  written  in  his  youth,  is  also  that  of  The  Banks  of  Banna. 

No.  42.  "Wishfully  I  look  and  languish.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No. 341,  signed  'R,'  entitled  The  bonny  wee  thing;  Thomson's  Select 
Melodies,  1825,  vi.  22.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  'Composed 
on  my  little  idol,  the  charming  lovely  Davies'  (Reliques,  1808,  joj).  Burns 
met  Deborah  Davies  at  the  house  of  her  relative  Robert  Riddell  of  Glenriddell ; 
a  young  lady  of  short  stature  and  much  beauty.  Two  letters  to  her  are  in  the 
Burns  correspondence. 

The  tune  is  a  fine  type  of  the  pathetic  music  of  Scotland.  In  a  rudimentary 
form  it  is  in  StralocKs  MS.,  dated  1627,  entitled  Wo  betyd  thy  wearie  bodie. 
It  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1758,  ix.  i.  A  different  melody  is 
in  Bremner's  Reels,  1758,  40,  entitled  The  Bonnie  ivt  thing. 

No.  43.  O,  how  shall  I,  unskilfu',  try.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  j-^rp,  entitled  Lovely  Davies.  Tune,  Miss  Muir.  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  The  song  was  sent  to  Miss  Davies  in  the  autumn  of  1791. 
She  was  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  Captain  Delaney,  who  went  abroad 
on  foreign  duty,  and  after  a  short-lived  correspondence  his  letters  to  her  ceased. 
The  rift  in  the  lute  seriously  affected  her  health,  and  Burns  delicately  refers 
to  the  subject  in  his  letter  in  these  words  :  '  So  strongly  am  I  interested  in 
Miss  Davies's  fate  and  welfare  in  the  serious  business  of  life,  amid  its  chances 
and  changes,  that  to  make  her  the  subject  in  a  silly  ballad  is  downright 
mockery  of  these  ardent  feelings ;  'tis  like  an  impertinent  jest  to  a  dying  friend.' 
The  following  sentence  is  quite  Burnsian  :  '  When  I  meet  with  a  person  after 
my  own  heart ...  I  positively  can  no  more  resist  from  rhyming  on  the  impulse 
than  an  Aeolian  harp  can  refuse  its  tones  to  the  streaming  air.' 


366 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  tune  of  the  song,  a  great  favourite  of  Burns,  is  in  Oswald's  Companion, 
c.  1756,  viii.  21,  entitled  Port  Athol,  or,  as  in  the  Mtiseum,  Miss  Muir.  In 
the  poet's  copy  of  Oswald's  collection  he  has  styled  the  tune  '  exquisite.' 

No.  44.  O,  saw  ye  bonie  Lesley?  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798*  33, 
'  written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  Air,  The  Collier  s  bonie  lassie. 
Written  in  honour  of  Miss  Lesley  Baillie.  A  copy  was  sent  in  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Dunlop,  August  22,  1792.  'Mr.  B[aillie]  with  his  two  daughters,  ac- 
companied by  Mr.  H of  G ,  passing  through  Dumfries  a  few  days  ago, 

on  their  way  to  England,  did  me  the  honour  of  calling  on  me ;  on  which 
I  took  my  horse  (though  God  knows  I  could  ill  spare  the  time),  and  ac- 
companied them  fourteen  or  fifteen  miles,  and  dined  and  spent  the  day  with 
them.  'Twas  about  nine  when  I  left  them ;  and  riding  home,  I  composed  the 
following  ballad.  .  .  .  You  must  know  that  there  is  an  old  ballad  begin- 
ning with  My  bonie  Lizzy  Baillie,  I'll  roive  thee  in  my  plaidie,  &c.,  so  I 
parodied  it  as  follows,  which  is  literally  the  first  copy.'  The  old  ballad 
referred  to  is  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  3,  and  in  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1796,  No.  456  (the  first  stanza  omitted),  with  the  following  pretty 
melody,  which  Burns  communicated  to  the  editor : — 


My         bo  -  nie  Liz  -  zy      Baill  -  ie,      I'll   row  ye     in      my         plaid 


ie  ;        and   ye  maun  gang  a  -  lang  wi'  me,      And   be     a    High-land   la  -  dy. 

On  November  8,  1792,  Burns  sent  a  copy  of  his  song  to  George  Thomson, 
who  without  authority  altered  the  last  line  of  the  second  stanza. 

The  tune,  The  colliers  dochter  or  The  colliers  bonie  dochler,  is  very  well 
known  on  both  sides  of  the  Border.  It  is  in  Leyden's  MS.,  c.  1690  ;  in  Playford's 
Original  Scotch  Ttines,  1700;  Sinklers  MS.,  1710;  Stewart's  Reels,  1762,  43-, 
and  entitled  the  Nine  pint  Cogie  in  McFarlane's  MS.,  1741,  and  with  the 
words  by  Ramsay  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  44.  See  Notes  on 
Nos.  208  and  232. 

No.  45.  "While  larks  with  little  wing.  Gurrie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  88, 
entitled  « Phittis  the  fair.  Tune,  Robin  Adair'  Phillis  was  the  sister  of  Bonie 
Jean,  of  Song  No.  49.  The  verses  were  written  in  August,  1793,  and  sent 
to  Thomson  with  this  note :  '  I  likewise  tried  my  hand  on  Robin  Adair,  and 
you  will  probably  think  with  little  success;  but  it  is  such  a  damned  cramp, 
out-of-the-way  measure,  that  I  despair  of  doing  anything  better  to  it.'  .  .  . 
Burns,  although  dissatisfied  with  Phillis  the  fair,  did  not  carry  out  his  intention 
of  writing  a  Scots  song  for  Robin  Adair. 

The  tune  Robin  Adair  or  Eire  a  ruin  is  a  captivating  melody  entitled 
Aileen  a  roon  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion ,  1753,  v.  21,  and  McLean's 
Scots  Tunes,  1772,  28.  Professional  vocalists  usually  load  it  with  tawdry 
decorations,  and  throw  rhythm  overboard. 

Burns  has  a  note  on  the  nationality  of  the  air  in  his  letter  to  Thomson 
of  August,  1793.  'I  have  met  with  a  musical  Highlander  in  Breadalbane's 
Fencibles,  which  are  quartered  here,  who  assures  me  that  he  well  remembers 
his  mother  singing  Gaelic  songs  to  both  Robin  Adair  and  Gramachree.  They 
certainly  have  more  of  the  Scots  than  the  Irish  taste  in  them.  This  man  came 
from  the  vicinity  of  Inverness,  so  it  could  not  be  any  intercourse  with  Ireland 
that  could  bring  them ;  except  what  I  shrewdly  suspect  to  be  the  case — the 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL 


367 


wandering  minstrels,  harpers,  or  pipers,  used  to  go  frequently  errant  through 
the  wilds  both  of  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  so  some  favourite  airs  might  be 
common  to  both.'  The  air  is  Irish,  so  far  as  ascertained. 

No.  46.  Farewell,  thou  stream  that  winding  flows.  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1799,  So,  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  Air,  The  last  time 
1  came  o'er  the  moor.  This  is  the  •English  version  of  a  song  written  for  Thomson 
in  honour  of  Mrs.  Maria  Riddell,  and  after  the  quarrel  with  her  he  cancelled  her 
name  and  replaced  it  by  '  Eliza '  as  in  the  text.  Of  the  first  version  which  he 
sent  to  Thomson  in  April,  1793,  he  says:  'I  had  scarcely  put  my  last  letter 
into  the  post-office  when  I  took  up  the  subject  of  "  The  last  time  I  came  o'er 
the  moor,"  and  e'er  I  slept,  drew  the  foregoing.'  Eighteen  months  later  he 
rewrote  it  as  in  the  text,  but  was  not  enthusiastic  on  the  result,  and  asked  why 
Thomson  could  not  take  Ramsay's  song  in  the  Tea-  7"able  Miscellany  for  the 
English  specimen. 

The  tune  in  the  Skene  MS.,  c.  1630,  is  entitled  Alas  !  y  at  I  came  oiur  the  moor 
and  left  my  love  behind  me.  Although  Burns  knew  not  the  Skene  MS.,  he 
makes  the  following  note  on  his  song :  '  Where  old  titles  of  songs  convey  any 
idea  at  all,  it  will  generally  be  found  to  be  quite  in  the  spirit  of  the  air* 
(y? 'cliques,  204}.  The  music  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  6\ 
Ramsay's  Mustek,  c.  1 726 ;  WTatts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1 729,  i.  142-,  McGibbon's 
Scots  Tunes,  1742,^4;  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1745,  ii.  24  ;  Bremner's 
Scots  Songs,  1757,  9  ;  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787, 18  ;  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs, 
1794,  i.  114.  In  all  cases  the  tune  published  differs  considerably  from  that  in 
the  Skene  MS.,  which  is  here  reprinted  from  the  transcription  in  Dauney's 
Ancient  Scot  fish  Melodies,  1838,  217. 

No.  47.  A  slave  to  love's  unbounded  sway.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1803,  No.  574,  signed  '  B.'  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns,'  and 
confirmed  by  Stenhouse.  How  this  song  was  written  has  not  been  ascertained. 
Scott-Douglas  surmised  that  Jessie  Lewars,  who  nursed  Burns  in  his  last  illness, 
was  the  subject  of  it. 

The  tune,  The  Cordwainer's  or  Shoemaker  s  March,  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i. 
No.  176.  It  is  a  good  melody  in  the  minor  mode,  framed  on  the  modern  scale 
with  sharp  sixths  and  sevenths.  The  following  Russian  air,  resembling  the 
tune  in  the  leading  passages,  is  taken  from  Graham's  Songs  of  Scotland, 
1848:— 


Wo.  48.  Turn  again,  thou  fair  Eliza !  Scots  Musical  Miiseum,  1792, 
No.  368,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Fair  Eliza,  '  a  Gaelic  air.'  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1798,  42,  with  a  wrong  tune.  In  one  of  the  few  existing  letters  to  James 
Johnson,  the  publisher  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  the  iollowing.  extract 
is  from  that  of  November  15,  1788:  'Have  you  never  a  fair  goddess  that 
leads  you  a  wild-goose  chase  of  amorous  devotion  ?  Let  me  know  a  few  of  her 
qualities,  such  as  whether  she  be  rather  black  or  fair,  plump  or  thin,  short  or 
tall,  &c.,  and  choose  your  air,  and  I  shall  task  my  muse  to  celebrate  her.' 
Some  years  later  he  made  a  similar  application  to  George  Thomson,  but  that 
gentleman  replied  that  his  name  was  Geordie,  and  his  wife  Katherine,  both  too 
unmusical  to  be  .put  into  verse.  The  song  Fair  Eliza  was  written  for 
Johnson,  as  the  original  line  in  the  MS.  in  the  British  Museum  is  Turn  again, 
thou  fair  Rabina,  a  name  previously  suggested  by  Johnson. 


368 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  tune  in  the  Museum  is  an  adaptation  of  a  Perthshire  melody  which 
Burns  heard  in  his  Highland  tour.  In  evidence  of  Burns's  attention  to  musical 
details  for  his  songs,  his  instructions  to  Johnson  for  the  tune  of  this  song  may 
be  cited  from  the  MS.  in  the  British  Museum :  '  The  song  will  not  sing 
to  your  tune  ;  but  theie  is  a  Perthshire  tune  in  McDonald's  collection  of 
Highland  Airs  which  is  much  admired  in  this  country ;  I  intended  the  verses  to 
sing  to  that  air.  It  is  on  page  17,  and  No.  112.  There  is  another  air  in  the 
same  collection,  an  Argyleshire  air,  which  with  a  trifling  alteration  will 
do  charmingly.  It  is  on  page  20,  and  No.  ijj.  The  alterations  are :  in  the 
fourth  bar  of  the  first  and  third  strains,  which  are  to  be  the  tune,  instead  of 
the  crotchet  C,  and  the  quavers  G  and  E,  at  the  beginning  of  the  bar  make  an 
entire  minim  in  E,  I  mean  E,  the  lowest  line,'  &c.  &c.  Johnson  printed  the  song 
with  both  the  melodies  here  cited  by  Burns,  and  that  in  our  text  is  the  last- 
named  in  McDonald's  Airs,  1784,  No.  133,  slightly  varied  in  Johnson's  Museum. 

No.  49.  There  was  a  lass,  and  she  was  fair.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv. 
79;  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  152.  The  MS.  is  in  Brechin  Castle. 
"Written  for  Jean,  daughter  of  John  McMurdo  of  Dumfries.  Stephen  Clarke, 
the  professional  musical  editor  of  the  Museum,  was  engaged  as  singing-master 
to  the  family,  and  Burns  and  he  often  met  about  this  time.  A  portion  of  the 
song  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  April,  1793,  with  the  copy  of  an  unprinted  air. 
The  complete  song  was  transmitted  on  July  a,  when  Burns  states  that  '  Mr. 
Clarke,  who  wrote  down  the  air  from  Mrs.  Burns's  wood-note  wild,  is  very  fond 
of  it,  and  has  given  it  celebrity  by  teaching  it  to  some  young  ladies  of  the  first 
fashion  here.  If  you  do  not  like  the  air  enough  to  give  it  a  place  in  your 
collection,  please  return  me  the  air ;  the  song  you  may  keep,  as  I  remember  it.' 
Later,  he  urged  Thomson  to  make  a  point  of  publishing  the  song  to  its  own 
tune,  in  his  next  number,  informing  him  that  the  old  name  of  the  air  was 
There  was  a  lass,  and  she  iu as  fair. 

Thomson  rejected  the  '  beautiful  little  air '  which  Burns  sent,  and  printed  the 
song  to  Willie  was  a  wanton  wag.  The  traditional  air  of  the  song  is  now 
irrecoverably  lost.  A  well-known  tune,  Bonny  Jean  (of  Aberdeen),  which  fits 
these  verses  of  Burns,  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  18,  and  many 
other  publications  of  the  eighteenth  century,  but  it  is  not  the  melody  which 
Burns  meant. 

No.  50.  O  Philly,  happy  be  that  day.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  201. 
'Tune,  The  sow's  tail.'  Scotish  Airs,  1805,760.  Thomson  suggested  verses 
for  the  Jacobite  air,  The  soivs  tail  to  Geordie.  Burns  replied  that  he  was 
delighted  with  the  tune,  and  proposed  to  write  verses  for  it,  which  he 
completed  on  November  19,  1794. 

The  original  Jacobite  song  is  a  bitter  vulgar  satire  on  the  '  wee  wee  German 
lairdie  '  and  '  Madame  Kilmansegge,'  whom  George  I  brought  with  him  from 
Hanover.  The  Countess  of  Darlington,  nee  Kilmansegge,  was  a  very  large- 
sized  noblewoman,  known  in  England  as  '  The  Elephant.'  The  Scots,  even  less 
polite,  compared  her  to  a  more  undignified  animal  in  the  song,  which  now 
occupies  the  book-shelves  of  the  student  of  manners.  One  stanza  out  of  eight 
in  Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics,  1819,  i.  91,  may  be  quoted  :— 
'  It 's  Geordie,  he  came  up  the  town, 

Wi'  a  bunch  o'  turnips  on  his  crown ; 
"  Aha ! "   quo  she,  "  I'll  pull  them  down, 
And  turn  my  tail  to  Geordie." 

Chorus  : — The  sow's  tail  is  till  him  yet,'  &c.  &c. 

The  tune — very  popular  in  Scotland  in  the  eighteenth  century — is  a  remark- 
ably easy-flowing  melody.  It  has  dropped  out  of  use,  and  ought  to  be  better 
known.  The  music  is  in  M°Glashan's  Scots  Measures t  1781,  39,  and  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  182. 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL 


369 


No.  51.  Adown  winding  Nith  I  did  wander.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  99.  The  second  song  on  Phillis  Macraurdo,  written  to  gratify  the  poet's 
friend  and  musical  adviser,  Stephen  Clarke.  In  August,  I793>  Burns  wrote  to 
Thomson  :  '  Another  favourite  air  of  mine  is  The  Miickin  o'  Geordies  Byre. 
When  sung  slow  with  expression,  I  have  wished  that  it  had  better  poetry  :  that 
I  have  endeavoured  to  supply.'  Thomson  riding  his  favourite  hobby,  suggested 
that  the  verses  should  be  entirely  English,  but  Burns  declined,  and  replied : 
'  I'll  rather  write  a  new  song  altogether  than  make  this  English.  The  sprinkling 
of  Scotch  in  it,  while  it  is  but  a  sprinkling,  gives  it  an  air  of  rustic  naivete, 
which  time  will  rather  increase  than  diminish.'  Thomson  did  not  print  the 
song.  The  following  stanza  in  the  original  copy  was  suppressed  by  Burns,  as 
he  thought  it  weak : — 

'The  primrose  is  o'er  for  the  season, 

But  mark  where  the  violet  is  blown ; 
How  modest  it  peeps  from  the  covert, 

So  modesty  sure  is  her  own.' 

The  melody  has  been  popular  for  nearly  two  hundred  years.  The  tune  is 
stated  to  be  in  Crockatt's  MS.  1709;  it  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725, 
No.  33,  to  a  song  beginning  : — 

'  My  daddie  's  a  delver  of  dykes, 

My  minnie  can  card  and  spin, 
And  I'm  a  bonnie  young  lass 

And  the  siller  comes  linkin  in/  &c. 

The  tune  is  also  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745,  ii.  jr/,  and  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum ^787 •,  No.  96.  A  fragment  is  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 

1769,^7:—  tm<*%  i»  »x«%)*- 

'  The  mucking  of  Geordie's  byre, 

And  shooling  the  grupe  sae  clean, 
Has  gar'-d  me  weit  my  cheeks  A 

And  greit  with  baith  my  een. 
CHORUS.    '  //  was  ne*er  my  fathers  will, 
Nor  yet  my  mother  s  desire, 
That  eer  I  should  Jile  my  fingers 
Wi"  mucking  of  Geordie's  byre. 

1  The  mouse  is  a  merry  beast, 

And  the  moudiewart  wants  the  een  : 
But  the  warld  shall  ne'er  get  wit 
Sae  merry  as  we  hae  been.' 

No.  52.  Here  is  the  glen  and  here  the  bower.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1798,  27,  set  to  the  air  The  flowers  of  Edinburgh.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  Thomson  Collection.  Sent  in  a  letter  to  Thomson  in  June,  1794  :  '  I  know 
you  value  a  composition,  because  it  is  made  by  one  of  the  great  ones,  as 
little  as  I  do.  However,  I  got  an  air,  pretty  enough,  composed  by  Lady 
Elizabeth  Heron  of  Heron,  which  she  calls  the  Banks  of  Cree.  Cree  is  a 
beautiful  romantic  stream,  and  as  her  ladyship  is  a  particular  friend  of  mine, 
I  have  written  the  following  song  to  it.  The  air,  I  fear,  is  not  worth  your 
while;  else  I  would  send  it  to  you.'  The  air,  if  it  ever  saw  the  light, 
cannot  now  be  identified.  The  song  is  supposed  to  have  been  written  for 
Mrs.  Maria  Riddell. 

No.  53.  O,  wert  thou  in  the  cauld  blast.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  j8i,  entitled  Address  to  a  lady.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1818,  219.  The 
story  of  this  song  is  on  the  authority  of  Chambers.  One  day  Burns,  weak  and 
pained,  called  on  Jessie  Lewars.  He  offered,  if  she  would  play  to  him  her 
favourite  tune,  to  write  verses  for  it.  She  played  Lenox  love  to  Blantyre  on 

Bb 


370  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

the  harpsichord  until  he  was  familiar  with  it  by  ear.  The  song,  0  ivert  thou 
in  the  cauld  blast,  a  carefully  polished  work  of  art,  was  the  result.  Instead  of 
adhering  to  the  text  and  melody,  Thomson  changed  the  metre  and  printed  the 
song  to  a  different  tune.  The  hand  which  penned  it  was  soon  to  lose  its  cunning. 
On  the  tomb  of  Franz  Schubert,  the  most  prolific  German  composer,  who  died 
at  an  earlier  age  than  Burns,  is  inscribed  '  Music  has  here  entombed  a  rich 
treasure,  but  still  fairer  hopes.'  As  a  song-writer  the  same  might  probably 
be  said  of  Burns,  whose  life  and  career  resemble  in  many  points  those  of  the 
composer.  A  generous  countryman,  said  of  Schubert  that,  if  he  had  lived,  he 
would  have  put  the  whole  German  language  into  music.  Of  Burns  it  may  be 
said  that,  if  he  had  lived,  he  would  have  put  the  whole  of  Scottish  music  into 
verse. 

The  first  theme  of  Lenox  love  to  Blantyre  ends  in  the  minor  and  the  second 
on  the  major  mode,  like  many  other  Scottish  tunes.  It  has  an  extended  compass 
— a  serious  drawback  to  popularity.  The  peculiar  title  was  obtained  from  an 
estate  acquired  by  Lord  Blantyre.  Frances  Theresa  Stewart,  daughter  of 
Walter  Stewart,  son  of  the  second  Lord  Blantyre,  born  about  1647,  was  tne 
original  of  the  emblem  of  Britannia  on  the  coinage.  She  married  Charles 
Stuart,  fourth  Duke  of  Richmond  and  Lenox,  and  died  in  1702,  leaving  con- 
siderable property  to  her  nephew  Alexander,  fifth  Lord  Blantyre,  requesting  that 
an  estate  should  be  purchased  in  East  Lothian,  to  be  named  Lenox  love  to 
Blantyre.  The  tune  with  this  title  is  in  Sinkler's  MS.  1710.  It  is  also  in 
Bremner's Reels,  1757,77:  Stewart's Reels,  1761,  p  ;  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,7;; 
and  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 796,  No.  483,  to  the  old  song  The  wren 
shoe  lyes  in  cares  bed. 

b.   Ellison  Begbie. 

No.  54.  Ilk  care  and  fear,  when  thou  art  near.  The  last  two  stanzas 
and  the  chorus  with  the  tune  Braes  o*  Balquhidder  are  in  the  Scots  Musical 
MuseuJn,  1788,  No.  193.  The  complete  song  is  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808, 
441.  The  MS.,  wanting  the  first  stanza,  is  in  the  British  Museum  with 
a  note  by  Burns  directing  that  the  chorus  is  to  the  first  or  lowest  part  of  the 
tune.  Burns  has  stated  that  Bonie  Peggie  Alison  or  Ellison  Begbie,  was 
a  juvenile  production  ;  but  he  never  directly  revealed  the  episode  which 
occasioned  this  and  the  two  following  songs  of  his  early  years.  The  Braes  o 
Balquhidder,  one  of  his  favourite  reels,  is  said  to  be  in  Walsh's  Caledonian 
Country  Dances  for  1742.  It  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1758,^7;  Aird's  Airs, 
1782,  ii.  No.  181,  and  elsewhere.  It  is  a  model  specimen  of  the  dance-music 
of  Scotland  of  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  modern  air  Pm 
ower  young  to  marry  yet  (not  the  same  as  the  old  tune  of  that  name)  is  a  variation 
of  the  Braes  o*  Balquhidder. 

M"o.  55.  On  Cessnock  banks  a  lassie  dwells.  Twelve  stanzas  marked 
Tune,  If  he  be  a  butcher  neat  and  trim,  first  imperfectly  printed  in  Cromek's 
R cliques,  1808,  442,  and  complete  from  the  MS.,  in  the  Aldine  edition, 
1839.  The  verses  are  founded  on  a  love  passage  in  the  poet's  youth.  The 
first  four  letters  to  an  unknown  correspondent,  E.,  dated  1780  and  1781,  and 
printed  in  Currie,  Works,  1800,  ii,  i,  with  a  fifth  printed  by  Scott-Douglas  in 
1878,  were  addressed  to  Ellison  or  Alison  Begbie,  the  daughter  of  a  farmer  in 
the  parish  of  Galston.  At  the  time  Burns  knew  her,  she  lived  near  Cessnock 
Water,  about  two  miles  from  Lochlea.  She  was  in  the  same  rank  of  life  as  the 
poet,  who  began  the  correspondence  partly  as  practice  in  the  art  of  letter- 
writing.  Burns's  sister  described  Ellison  Begbie  as  much  above  the  smalt 
ordinary  farmer's  daughter,  naturally  gifted  both  in  mind  and  person, 
accomplished  in  manners,  and  with  a  fair  stock  of  personal  attractions. 
Cromek  took  down  his  verses  from  the  recitation  of  a  lady  in  Glasgow,  whom 
he  said  Burns  affectionately  admired.  Probably  she  was  the  object  of  them. 


I.      LOVE-SONGS  :     PERSONAL 


371 


The  Tune,  The  butcher  boy,  is  taken  from  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  304.  I  have  not  seen  it  in  any  earlier  publication. 

No.  56.  O  Mary,  at  thy  window  be.  This  exquisite  lyric,  which  Burns 
of  many  moods  rather  disparaged  in  his  later  years,  written  in  honour  of 
Ellison  Begbie,  was  originally  published  by  Currie  (Works,  1800,  iv.  41}, 
marked  for  the  Tune,  Bide  ye  yet ;  but  in  the  copy  sent  to  Thomson,  March  20, 
1793,  the  song  is  directed  for  the  music  of  Dtincan  Davison.  In  the  letter  is 
trie  following  statement  :  '  The  song  is  one  of  my  juvenile  works.  I  leave  it 
among  your  hands.  I  do  not  think  it  very  remarkable,  either  for  its  merits  or 
demerits.  It  is  impossible  to  be  always  original,  entertaining  and  witty.'  It 
was  published  with  the  tune  The  Glasgow  lasses,  in  Scotish  Airs  1818,  v.  219, 
and  it  is  invariably  printed  in  modern  collections  with  The  Miller,  another 
unauthorized  air.  For  the  tune  Duncan  Davison  or  Ye  II  ay  be  welcome  back 
again,  see  Note  176. 

c.    Highland  Mary  (Mary  Campbell). 

No.  57.  "Will  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary?  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  12.  This  is  the  first  song  of  the  Highland  Mary  series,  written  when  Burns 
proposed  to  emigrate.  It  lay  unseen  for  nearly  four  and  a  half  years,  after 
which  time  he  sent  it  to  George  Thomson.  His  letter  of  October,  1792, 
enclosing  the  song,  contains  one  of  his  few  references  to  Mary  Campbell.  '  In 
my  very  early  years,'  he  writes,  '  when  I  was  thinking  of  going  to  the  West 
Indies,  I  took  the  following  farewell  (i.  e.  the  song)  of  a  dear  girl.  It  is  quite 
trifling,  and  has  nothing  of  the  merits  of  Eive-bughts ;  but  it  will  fill  up  this 
page.  You  must  know  that  all  my  earlier  love-songs  were  the  breathings  of  ardent 
passion,  and  though  it  might  have  been  easy  in  after  times  to  have  given  them 
a  polish,  yet  that  polish,  to  me  whose  they  were,  and  who  perhaps  alone  cared 
for  them,  would  have  defaced  the  legend  of  the  heart,  which  was  so  faithfully 
inscribed  on  them.  Their  uncouth  simplicity  was,  as  they  say  of  wines,  their 
race.'  Thomson  had  a  poor  opinion  of  the  song,  and  missed  the  opportunity  of 
the  original  publication  by  sending  it  to  Currie.  He  printed  it  more  than 
a  quarter  of  a  century  later  in  his  Select  Melodies,  1822,  i.  8. 

The  fine  old  verses  for  air  Ewe-bughts  Marion  were  published  in  Ramsay's 
Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724,  and  copied  into  Percy's  Reliques,  1765.  Percy 
misled  the  public  by  making  it  believe  that  all  the  pieces  of  poetry  in  his  collec- 
tion were  in  the  MS.  he  described.  E-ive-bughts  Marion  is  not  there,  nor 
found  anywhere  else  in  the  peculiar  orthography  of  his  Reliques.  It  is  one  of 
the  remarkable  pastorals  for  which  Scotland  is  famous.  The  tune  has  been 
very  much  altered  since  its  original  publication  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
J733>  No.  //.  It  is  in  the  modern  style  in  Stewart's  Scots  Songs,  1781,  ji ; 
in  the  Musical  Miscellany,  Perth,  1786, 3} ;  in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  476  ; 
and  in  the  Museum,  1787,  No.  8j.  In  the  Interleaved  Museum,  Burns  says, 
'  I  am  not  sure  if  this  old  and  charming  air  be  of  the  South,  as  is  commonly 
said,  or  the  North  of  Scotland.  There  is  a  song,  apparently  as  ancient  as 
Ewe-bughts  Marion,  which  sings  to  the  same  tune,  and  is  evidently  of  the 
North.'  It  begins  thus : — 

'The  Lord  of  Gordon  had  three  dochters, 

Mary,  Margret,  and  Jean  ; 
They  wad  na  stay  at  bonie  Castle-Gordon 
But  awa  to  Aberdeen.'     (Reliques,  1808,  229.} 

The  complete  ballad,  which  Ritson  obtained  from  a  stall  copy,  was  originally 
published  in  his  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  ii.  169,  and  partly  reprinted  in  Johnson's 
Museum,  1796,  No.  419.  If  the  fourth  Earl  of  Huntley  is  referred  to,  then 
Burns's  denomination,  the  '  Lord  of  Gordon,'  is  correct,  and  that  in  Ritson's 
and  subsequent  copies,  the  'Duke  of  Gordon,'  is  wrong,  for  the  Dukedom  of 
Gordon  was  not  created  until  1684.  George  Gordon  succeeded  his  grandfather 

B  b  2 


372  HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Alexander,  the  third  Earl  of  Huntley,  in  1523,  and  had  three  daughters  as  in 
the  ballad.  Jean  married  the  Earl  of  Bothwell,  who  divorced  her  in  1568  to 
marry  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots.  Her  second  husband  was  the  Earl  of  Sutherland, 
who  died  in  1594,  and  surviving  him  (she  must  have  had  a  tough  constitution) 
she  married  Captain  Alexander  Ogilvie  of  Boyne,  who  died  in  1606.  As  Jean 
is  described  in  the  ballad  as  '  bonny  Jeanie  Gordon,'  evidently  young,  and 
having  three  children  in  three  years  by  Captain  Ogilvie,  history  and  the  ballad 
do  not  fit  one  another  very  well. 

Wo.  58.  Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton,  among  thy  green  braes.  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  386,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Afton  Water.  A  MS. 
is  in  the  British  Museum,  entitled  Sweet  Afton.  The  origin  of  this  well-known, 
beautiful  lyric  is  disputed.  Currie  relates  that  it  was  written  on  Afton  Water, 
and  in  compliment  to  Mrs.  Stewart ;  Gilbert  Burns  states  that  Mary  Campbell 
was  the  heroine ;  Scott-Douglas  agrees  with  this,  but  in  the  Centenary  Burns 
it  is  asserted  that  it  has  no  connexion  with  Highland  Mary,  but  was  written  as 
a  compliment  to  the  river  Afton  which  flows  into  the  Nith  near  New  Cumnock ; 
and  that  the  verses  were  sent  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  on  February  5,  1789.  This  is 
doubtless  correct ;  but  it  may  be,  and  very  likely  is,  a  reminiscence  of  Mary 
Campbell.  In  1791  Burns  sent  a  copy  to  Mrs.  Stewart  of  Stair.  Stenhouse 
states  that  Burns  communicated  the  melody  to  the  Museum. 

Wo.  59.  Wae  gentle  dames,  tho'  ne'er  sae  fair.  Scots  Mtisical  Museum, 
1 788,  No.  7/7,  signed  '  X,'  entitled  The  Highland  Lassie  0\  Scotish  Airs,  1798, 
jj,  with  a  wrong  tune.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  '  This  was 
a  composition  of  mine  in  very  early  life,  before  I  was  known  at  all  in  the 
world.  My  Highland  Lassie  was  a  warm-hearted,  charming  young  creature 
as  ever  blessed  a  man  with  generous  love.  After  a  pretty  long  tract  of  the  most 
ardent  reciprocal  attachment,  we  met  by  appointment,  on  the  second  Sunday 
of  May,  in  a  sequestered  spot  by  the  Banks  of  Ayr,  where  we  spent  the  day 
taking  a  farewell,  before  she  should  embark  for  the  West  Highlands,  to  arrange 
matters  among  her  friends  for  our  projected  change  of  life.  At  the  close  of 
Autumn  following  she  crossed  the  sea  to  meet  me  at  Greenock,  where  she  had 
scarce  landed  when  she  was  seized  with  a  malignant  fever,  which  hurried  my 
dear  girl  to  the  grave  in  a  few  days,  before  I  could  even  hear  of  her  illness ' 
(Keliques,  1808,  .277).  This  note  has  an  important  bearing  on  the  Highland 
Mary  episode,  and  it  is  necessary  to  warn  the  reader  that  the  leaf  from  which 
Cromek  is  supposed  to  have  copied  it  is  now  wanting  in  the  Interleaved 
Museum.  The  questions  arise,  Was  the  note  ever  there  ?  and,  if  so,  why  was 
it  cut  out,  who  abstracted  it,  and  where  is  it  now?  For  the  Marion  controversy 
see  the  Edinburgh  edition,  1877,  iv.  220-230. 

The  tune,  McLauchliris  Scots  Measure,  is  in  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700, 
and  is  unsuitable  for  Burns's  gay  song  from  its  extended  compass,  which  no 
ordinary  voice  can  reach,  and  its  skipping  intervals.  Another  copy  of  the  music 
is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1754,  vi.  28,  entitled  The  Inverness 
Scots  Meastire,  and  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  $>/. 

No.  60.  Thou  lingering  star  with  less'ning  ray.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1 790,  No.  279,  entitled  My  Mary,  dear  departed  shade.  Tune,  Captain  Cook's 
death,  &c.  This  lyric  is  believed  to  have  been  written  in  October,  1789,  the 
third  anniversary  of  the  death  of  Mary  Campbell.  There  is  no  comment  on 
the  song  by  the  poet  in  his  notes.  Many  curious  conjectures  have  been  made 
as  to  the  circumstances  of  the  Highland  Mary  attachment,  and  Cromek  was 
the  first  to  connect  this  song  with  her.  He  relates  how  that  on  a  night  in 
October,  Burns  lay  in  the  barn-yard  on  the  lee-side  of  a  corn-stack  to  protect 
himself  from  the  keen  frosty  wind,  and  remained  there  until  the  dawn  wiped 
out  the  stars,  &c.,  &c.  Lockhart,  Life,  chap,  vii,  on  the  authority  of  Mrs.  Burns, 
gives  a  more  circumstantial  account  of  the  origin  of  the  song,  quite  as  sensa- 
tional as  the  other.  That  Burns  was  the  victim  of  great  emotion  and  hypochondria 


c,  1 


I.      LOVE-SONGS  :     PERSONAL 


373 


at  this  period  may  be  learned  from  his  correspondence.  In  a  letter  of 
December  13,  1789,  full  of  melancholy,  he  laments  the  death  of  a  dear  young 
friend,  and  speaking  of  heaven,  he  says, '  There  should  I,  with  speechless  agony 
of  rapture,  again  recognize  my  ever  dear  Mary,  whose  bosom  was  fraught  with 
truth,  honor,  constancy,  and  love.' 

The  tune  is  the  sentimental  composition  of  Miss  Lucy  Johnson,  who  became 
Mrs.  Oswald  of  Auchencruive.  That  old  beau,  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  describes 
her  as  '  giving  double  charm  to  a  minuet  and  dignifying  a  country  dance.'  No 
attempt  will  be  made  here  to  disturb  the  opinion  that  the  tune  is  very  beautiful, 
mats  chactm  &  son  gout. 

No.  61.  Ye  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around.  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
83,  '  Written  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Burns.'  '  Tune,  Katherine  Ogie.'  This 
song  on  Mary  Campbell  is  described  to  Thomson,  November  14,  1792  :  'It 
pleases  myself;  I  think  it  is  in  my  happiest  manner;  you  will  see  at  first  glance 
that  it  suits  the  air.  The  subject  of  the  song  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
passages  of  my  youthful  days,  and  I  own  that  I  would  be  much  flattered  to  see 
the  verses  set  to  an  air  which  would  ensure  celebrity.  Perhaps,  after  all,  'tis 
the  still  glowing  prejudice  of  my  heart  that  throws  a  borrowed  lustre  over  the 
merits  of  the  composition.'  He  requested  Thomson  to  print  the  song  in  his 
first  volume,  but  his  wish  was  not  gratified. 

The  tune  Katherine  Ogle  was  a  favourite  of  Burns.  Thomson  suggested 
that  the  old  song  should  be  dressed,  but  Burns  declined  any  connexion  with 
such  poor  stuff.  The  song  in  the  7^ea-  Table  Miscellany,  1724,  is  an  amended 
version  of  'As  I  went  forth  to  view  the  plain,'  taken  from  Wit  and  Mirth, 
or  Pills  to  purge  melancholy.  The  nationality  of  both  words  and  music  are 
disputed.  The  tune  is  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1688,  with  the  title, 
Lady  Catherine  Ogle,  a  new  dance.  In  Apollo  s  Banquet,  1686,  it  is  printed 
twice  ;  the  first  time  with  the  same  title  as  in  the  Dancing  Master,  and  in  the 
second  part  of  the  collection  as  A  Scotch  Tune.  Tom  Durfey  wrote  verses 
for  it  entitled  A  New  Scotch  Song,  beginning  Walking  down  the  Highland 
town,  and  printed  in  his  Pills,  1719,  ii.  200,  and  elsewhere  as  Bonny  Katherine 
Loggy :  a  Scotch  song.  The  verses  are  a  poor  imitation  of  the  Scots'  vernacular. 
The  music  is  also  in  Bruce  s  MS.,  1706,  and  Graham's  MS.,  1694,  both  quoted 
by  the  late  J.  Muir  Wood ;  Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730,  .20  ;  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
1725,  No.  22 ;  Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1729,  ii.  166 ;  McGibbon's  Scots 
7unes,  1742,20;  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  2,  and  elsewhere. 
The  title  of  the  air,  as  in  the  Dancing  Master,  was  obviously  in  honour  of 
Lady  Catherine  Ogle,  youngest  daughter,  and  one  of  the  co-heirs  of  the  Duke 
of  Newcastle  and  Baron  Ogle.  She  died  in  1691. 


d.   Jean  Armour  (Mrs.  Burns). 

Wo.  62.  Tho'  cruel  fate  should  bid  us  part.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  118,  signed  '  R.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  with  no 
direction  for  the  tune.  There  is,  however,  another  MS.  of  the  verses  marked 
for  the  air  She  rose  and  loot  me  in,  which  Johnson  could  not  adopt,  as  it  had 
already  been  appropriated  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Museum.  So  he  set  the 
verses  of  Burns  to  The  Northern  Lass. 

Both  the  words  and  air  of  the  original  song  She  rose  and  let  me  in  are 
disputed.  According  to  Chappell,  the  complete  song  is  in  a  New  Collection 
of  Songs,  London,  1683,  the  words  by  Thomas  Durfey  and  '  set  by  Mr.  Thomas 
Farmer.'  It  is  also  in  Durfey 's  Pills,  1719,  i.  324.  The  earliest  copy  of  the 
music  in  a  Scottish  collection  is  in  Sinklers  MS.,  1710,  and  the  words  in 
Ramsay's  Miscellany,  1725.  Both  are  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  24, 
and  the  music  is  much  improved.  It  is  repeated  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  1743,  i.  21.  There  is  no  copy  of  either  the  words  or  the  music 


374  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

known  in  Scotland  before  the  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  the 
claim  for  the  verses  being  the  work  of  Sir  Francis  Beltrees,  a  Renfrewshire 
knight,  falls  to  the  ground.  The  tune  is  a  good  melody  of  the  scholastic  kind, 
without  any  traits  of  the  untutored  music  of  Scotland.  It  is  here  taken  from 
the  Orpheus  Caledonius. 

No.  63.  Altho*  my  back  be  at  the  wa*.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  \  796, 
No.  480,  signed  '  Z,'  entitled  Here 's  his  health  in  water,  with  the  music  of 
The  job  of  journey  work.  In  writing  about  the  Jacobite  song  of  Lewie  Gordon, 
Burns  refers  to  the  pathos  of  the  line, '  Tho'  his  back  be  at  the  waV  See  Hogg's 
Jacobite  Relics,  1821,  ij6.  It  would  be  difficult  to  prove  that  Burns's  verses 
refer  to  Jean  Armour,  but  they  must  remain  here  as  the  best  place  for  them. 

The  music  in  the  text  is  from  Burns7 s  MS.  in  the  British  Museum,  from  which 
Johnson  got  his  tune  which  was  first  printed  in  Aird's  Airs,  1 788,  iii.  No.  401. 
The  second  movement  of  an  Irish  melody  The  little  red  fox,  which  may  be 
seen  in  Stanford's  Irish  Melodies,  1894,36,  has  a  remarkable  likeness  to  the 
swing  of  The  job  of  journey  work,  and  iurther  light  is  wanted  on  the  origin 
of  the  melody  for  which  Burns  wrote  his  song. 

No.  64.  When  first  J  came  to  Stewart  Kyle.  Commonplace  Book,  1872, 
4j,  entitled  '•A  fragment.  Tune,  I  had  a  horse  and  I  had  nae  mair?  Printed 
in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808,  346.  Burns's  mother  stated  that  he  first  met 
Jean  Armour  at  a  peasants'  ball,  or  some  similar  entertainment.  The  poet 
was  attended  by  his  collie  dog,  which  followed  him  about  the  room,  and  got 
in  the  way  of  the  dancers  ;  whereupon  he  remarked  to  his  partner  that  he 
wished  he  could  find  a  lass  who  would  like  him  as  well  as  his  dog.  A  few 
weeks  afterwards  the  acquaintance  was  renewed,  which  ripened  into  marriage. 

I  cannot  trace  the  music  of  /  had  a  horse  further  back  than  the  copy  in 
Johnson's  Museum,  1788,  No.  185,  printed  with  the  old  song,  which  Burns  said 
was  founded  on  an  incident  in  the  life  of  a  John  Hunter,  whose  great-grand- 
child related  the  story  to  Burns.  The  verses,  published  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 
1 769, 323,  begin  :— 

'  I  had  a  horse,  and  I  had  nae  mair, 

I  gat  him  frae  my  daddy  ; 
My  purse  was  light,  and  my  heart  was  sair, 

But  my  wit  it  was  fu'  ready. 
And  sae  I  thocht  upon  a  wile, 

Outwittens  of  my  daddy, 
To  fee  mysell  to  a  lowland  laird, 
Who  had  a  bonny  lady,'  &c. 

No.  65.  In  Mauchline  there  dwells.  Glenriddell  MS.  Published  in 
Currie,  Works,  1800,  iii.  380,  entitled  The  Mauchline  belles.  Tune,  Bonnie 
Dundee.  The  first  of  these  *  belles '  was  Helen  Miller,  who  married 
a  Dr.  Mackenzie.  The  second,  Miss  Markland,  married  Burns's  friend  and 
future  colleague  in  the  Excise,  James  Findlay.  Jean  Smith  married  James 
Candlish,  another  friend  of  Burns,  and  was  the  mother  of  Dr.  Candlish  who 
succeeded  Dr.  Chalmers  as  leader  of  the  Free  Kirk  of  Scotland.  Betty  Miller, 
sister  of  Helen  above  referred  to,  became  a  Mrs.  Templeton.  Miss  Morton 
married  a  merchant  in  Mauchline  ;  while  the  last  was  Jean  Armour,  who  became 
the  poet's  wife.  For  the  tune,  see  No.  112. 

No.  66.  O  thou  pale  Orb  that  silent  shines.  Kilmarnock  edition,  1786, 
ijo.  The  verses  in  the  text  are  three  stanzas  of  The  Lament,  which  Burns, 
in  Grays  MS. Lists,  directed  as  follows  :  <  For  the  tune  in  the  Scotch  Queen, 
Oswald,  take  the  first  and  the  last  two  stanzas  of  the  poem  entitled  The 
Lament  in  Burns's  poems.'  These  directions  Burns  sent  to  Johnson  of  the 
Museum,  but  they  were  not  followed,  and  the  verses  are  now  printed  for 
the  first  time  with  the  proper  melody.  For  the  tune  in  the  Scots  Musical 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :     PERSONAL 


375 


Museum  a  song  of  Mrs.  M°Lehose  was  inserted,  for  which  Burns  wrote  a  stanza 
to  complete  the  verses.  See  Song  No.  76. 

The  tune  Scots  Queen  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  c.  1759,  xii.  /,  and  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  17^8,  No.  190. 

The  primary  cause  of  Burns's  arrangements  for  emigrating  in  1 786  arose  out 
of  the  amour  with  Jean  Armour,  to  which  the  beautiful  poem  The  Lament 
refers.  The  state  of  mind  of  the  poet,  at  this  time  bordering  on  madness,  is 
described  in  his  Autobiography. 

No.  67.  Again  rejoicing  Nature  sees.  Edinburgh  edition,  1787,  327. 
Tune,  Jockey's  gray  breeks,  with  a  footnote  on  the  chorus :  '  This  chorus  is  part 
of  a  song  composed  by  a  gentleman  in  Edinburgh,  a  particular  friend  of  the 
author's.'  According  to  Scott- Douglas,  the  chorus  was  written  by  the  poet 
himself,  and  to  conceal  the  reference  to  Jean  Armour  he  changed  the  name 
to  '  Menie.'  At  this  time,  the  beginning  of  1787,  he  was  in  Edinburgh 
correcting  the  proofs  of  the  first  Edinburgh  edition. 

The  tune,  a  variation  of  The  weaver  and  his  shuttle,  a  title  not  in  any 
Scottish  collection,  is  taken  from  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745, 
ii.  $2.  The  music  is  also  in  Oswald's  Curious  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  ii.  6,  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  jy,  and  in  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786.  256.  The 
old  song  for  the  tune  has  never  been  printed,  and  it  is  'doubtful  whether  more 
exists  than  the  following  fragment  in  Herd's  MS. : — 

'  I'll  hae  Johnny's  gray  breeks 

For  a'  the  ill  he's  done  me  yet 
And  I'll  hae  Johnny's  gray  breeks 

For  a'  the  ill  he's  done  me  yet. 
He's  done  me  ill  and  against  my  will, 

And  a'  the  country  kens  o'  that ! 
Yet  I'll  hae  Johnny's  gray  breeks 

For  a'  the  ill  he 's  done  me  yet.' 

No.  68.  Tho'  women's  minds  like  winter  winds.  Scots  Mtisical 
Museum,  1790,  No.  290,  signed  'X,'  and  with  the  tune  For  a?  that.  'This 
song  is  mine,  all  except  the  chorus '  (Reliques,  282}.  In  a  footnote  Cromek 
states  that  it  is  part  of  the  bard's  song  in  7^he  jolly  Beggars.  Doubtless ;  but 
it  would  be  more  proper  to  say  that  the  song  was  rewritten  for  publication 
in  the  Museum,  and  for  one  of  the  favourite  melodies  of  Burns.  In  the 
Law  MS.  it  is  marked  '  Mr.  B.'s  old  words.'  The  third  stanza  was  originally 
printed  in  the  Pickering  edition  of  Burns.  For  the  tune,  see  Nos.  2jj  undjoy. 

No.  69.  Of  a*  the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  2jj,  signed  '  R,'  entitled  /  love  my  Jean.  Tune,  Miss  Admiral 
Gordon* s  Strathspey.  '  Mr.  Burns  sent  the  words '  (Law's  MS.  List}.  The  MS. 
is  in  the  British  Museum.  This  and  the  following  five  songs  are  the  honey- 
moon series,  written  in  the  last  seven  or  eight  months  of  1788,  and  referring 
to  his  wife  or  his  matrimonial  life.  Of  a1  the  airts  is  justly  one  of  the  best- 
known  and  most  popular  songs  of  Scotland.  '  The  air  is  by  Marshall ;  the  song 
I  composed  out  of  compliment  to  Mrs.  Burns.  N.B.  It  was  during  the  honey- 
moon' {Reliques,  1808,  .277).  It  was  written  at  Ellisland  in  June;  his  wife 
was  then  staying  at  Mossgiel  with  his  mother  and  sisters.  The  song  is  very 
rarely  printed  correctly,  and  in  many  copies  are  added  two  spurious  double 
stanzas,  the  work  of  John  Hamilton,  a  music  publisher.  Allan  Cunningham 
was  responsible  for  leading  the  public  astray,  by  asserting  that  they  were  in 
Burns's  MS.  In  Thomson's  Select  Melodies,  1823,  v.  No.  10,  a  new  set  of 
sixteen  lines  are  marked,  '  Added  by  Mr.  Richardson  for  this  work.' 

The  tune  is  the  composition  of  William  Marshall,  butler  to  the  Duke 
of  Gordon.  Stenhouse  assumed  that  Marshall  borrowed  part  of  the  air  from 
The  lowlands  of  Holland,  but  Mr.  John  Glen  of  Edinburgh  has  proved  the 


376 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


opposite.  The  latter  tune  was  not  printed  before  1790,  while  Miss  Admiral 
Gordon  s  Strathspey  was  published  in  Marshall's  Collection  of  Reels,  1781. 
It  is  in  McGlashan's  Reels,  1786,  4.  The  rudiments  of  this  fine  melody  can 
be  seen  in  the  Skene  MS.,  c.  1630,  under  the  title  A  lace  !  I  lie  my  alon  I'm 
lik  to  die  auld.  (Uauney's  Ancient  Scottish  Melodies,  p.  227.} 

No.  70.  O,  how  can  I  be  blythe  and  glad  ?     In  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No. 317,  signed  'X,'  entitled   The  bonie  lad  that^s  far  aviso1,  without 
the  second  stanza.     Complete  in  Cromek's  R cliques,  1808,47.2.     This  song  is 
supposed  to  be  sung  by  Jean  Armour,  lamenting  the  absence  of  her  husband. 
Burns  has  left  no  memorandum   of  the  song,  but  the  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum,  minus  the  second  stanza.     Burns  got  the  idea  from  verses  in  Herd's 
Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  i,  which  in  its  turn  was  an  abridgement  of  a  black- 
letter  ballad  of  fifteen  stanzas,  c.  1690,  entitled  The  inconstant  shepherd,  or  the 
Forsaken  Lass's  Lamentation.     London:  Printed  for  C.  Bates  at  the  Sun  and 
Bible,  Pye  Corner.     To  an  excellent  new  Tune.     Herd,  with  slight  variation, 
copied  the  first,  fourth  and  eighth  stanzas  into  his  collection.     The  ballad  is 
exceptionally  good  for  a  street  publication,  the  following  being  the  first  stanza  : — 
'  O,  how  can  I  be  merry  or  glad, 
Or  in  my  mind  contented  be ; 
When  the  bonny,  bonny  lad  whom  I  love  best 

Is  banish'd  out  of  my  company  ? 
Tho'  he  is  banish'd  for  my  sake, 

And  his  true  love  I  still  remain, 
He  has  caused  me  many  a  night  for  to  wake 

And  adieu  to  my  true  love  once  again !  * 

I  cannot  identify  the  '  excellent  new  tune '  of  this  ballad,  but  it  may  have 
been  O'er  the  hills  and  far  away  (see  Song  No.  2/7).  Songs  with  this  refrain 
were  common  in  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries.  The  tune  in  the 
text  from  the  Museum  was  originally  published  there,  and  was  probably 
communicated  by  Burns. 

Wo.  71.  I  hae  a  wife  o*  my  ain.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  352, 
signed  '  B.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  style  and  humour  of 
this  irresistible  song  is  delightful,  and  the  nationality  unmistakable.  The 
energetic  verses  were  framed  on  an  old  model : — 

'  I  hae  a  wife  o'  my  awn, 

I'll  be  haddin  to  naebody; 
I  hae  a  pat  and  a  pan, 

I'll  borrow  frae  naebody.' 
Burns  owed  nothing  to  this  or  any  other  previous  verses. 

The  tune  confirms  the  evidence  of  the  existence  of  songs  now  lost.  The  title 
/  hae  a  wife  d1  my  ain,  clearly  the  first  line  of  a  song,  is  in  Walsh's  Caledonian 
Country  Dances-,  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  45  \  *n  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  12; 
and  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  77.  Schumann  composed  an  original  lilt  on 
Scottish  lines,  entitled  Niemand,  for  a  translation  of  Burns's  song. 

No.  72.  It  is  na,  Jean,  thy  bonie  face.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  3tf.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  without  direction  for  music.  This 
eulogy  on  his  wife  was  written  near  the  close  of  the  year  1788.  '  These  were 
originally  English  verses  :  I  gave  them  their  Scots'  dress'  (Interleaved Museum}. 
There  is  more  philosophy  than  passion  in  them.  Burns  may  have  got  the  idea 
from  a  popular  song  of  last  century,  by  George  Etheridge,  beginning  It  is  not 
Celia,  in  our  power,  otherwise  nothing  of  another  similar  song  has  been 
discovered. 

The  tune,  The  maid's  complaint,  is  by  James  Oswald,  printed  in  Curious 
Collection  Scots  Tunes,  1740, /,/,  and  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1752,  iv.jo. 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  !    PERSONAL 


377 


No.  73.  Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee?  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  414,  signed  '  R,'  entitled  Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee  ?  The  MS.  is  not 
known.  Scott-Douglas  assumes  that  the  verses  were  written  in  December,  1788, 
after  the  poet's  wife  and  family  joined  him  at  Ellisland.  The  hand  of  Burns 
is  apparent  in  the  vigorous  language  of  the  verses.  The  signature  in  the 
Museum  confirms  the  authorship. 

Stenhouse,  without  quoting  authority,  states  that  Burns  communicated  the 
tune  to  the  editor  of  the  Museum.  I  have  not  discovered  it  in  any  earlier 
Scottish  collection  of  music.  The  first  two  lines  in  the  relative  major  key  are 
the  opening  bars  of  The  British  Grenadiers. 

No.  74.  O,  were  I  on  Parnassus*  hill.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  ajf,  signed  '  R.'  Tune,  My  love  is  lost  to  me.  '  Mr.  B.'s  words '  (Law's 
MS.  List}.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  No.  ag.  Nearly  all  Burns's 
letters  of  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1788  contain  some  reference  to  his  married 
life.  To  Peggy  Chalmers,  dated  September  16,  he  relates  that  his  wife  never 
spent  five  minutes  on  any  book,  except  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  the 
Psalms  of  David,  and  his  own  poems,  which  she  has  perused  very  devoutly, 
and  all  the  ballads  in  the  county,  '  as  she  has  the  finest  woodnote  wild  I  ever 
heard.'  A  surfeit  of  probable  models  of  the  song  are  in  the  Centenary  Burns.^ 
'This  air  is  Oswald's  :  the  song  I  made  out  of  compliment  to  Mrs.  Burns' 
(Interleaved  Museum).  The  tune  My  love  is  lost  to  me,  or  0  Jean,  I  love  thee, 
is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  ^/,  and  in  Calliope,  1788, 
176.  The  extended  compass  of  the  air  has  interfered  wilh  its  popularity. 

No.  75.  Out  over  the  Forth,  I  look  to  the  north.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1796,  No.  421.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  with  the  title 
/  look  to  the  north.  In  a  letter  to  Cunningham,  Burns  quotes  four  lines  of  the 
song,  and  asks  his  correspondent  how  he  liked  them  as  a  sample  he  had 
'  on  the  tapis.'  He  wrote  on  the  copy  for  the  Museum,  '  The  enclosed  tune 
is  a  part  of  Gow's  Charles  Graham's  welcome  hame,  but  I  do  not  think  the 
close  of  the  second  part  of  the  tune  happy.  Mr.  Clarke,  on  looking  over  Gow's 
air,  will  conceive  a  better  ; '  which  Clarke  did.  The  tune  is  in  Gow's  Second 
Collection,  1788,  20. 

e.   'Clarinda*  (Mrs.  McLehose). 

No.  76.  For  thee  is  laughing  Nature  gay.  Museum,  1788,  No.  190, 
entitled '  To  a  blackbird.  By  a  lady,'  and  signed  •  M.'  Tune,  Scots  Queen.  The 
MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Burns  wrote  only  the  four  lines  beginning, 
'For  thee  is  laughing  Nature  gay';  the  rest  are  by  Mrs.  McLehose.  For 
the  tune,  see  No.  66. 

No.  77.  Your  friendship  much  can  make  me  blest.  Second  stanza 
of  a  song  in  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  186,  entitled  '  Talk  not  of  love, 
it  gives  me  pain.  By  a  lady.'  Tune,  Banks  of  Spey.  Signed  'M.'  The  MS. 
is  in  the  British  Museum.  About  the  beginning  of  December,  1787,  Burns 
met  Mrs.  McLehose  for  the  first  time.  She  was  parted  from  her  husband, 
a  Glasgow  solicitor,  who  had  gone  to  the  West  Indies.  Handsome  and  good- 
looking,  sentimental  and  religions,  and  about  the  same  age  as  Burns,  she 
wished  to  become  better  acquainted  with  the  poet,  and  invited  fyim  to  take  tea 
at  her  house.  He  was  prevented  from  keeping  the  engagement  by  an  accident 
which  confined  him  to  his  lodgings  for  two  months.  A  formal  correspondence 
began  in  the  orthodox  fashion,  but  it  progressed  so  rapidly  that  in  a  fortnight 
she  signed  herself  Clarinda  and  he  followed  suit  with  Sylvander.  Sometimes 
two  or  three  letters  a  day  were  interchanged,  and  the  whole  episode  lasted 
three  and  a  half  months.  The  writing  for  the  most  part  is  stilted  sentiment, 
and  although  there  is  the  appearance  of  much  enthusiasm  and  passion,  there 
is  an  absence  of  reality  about  the  whole  affair.  But  Burns  showed  that  he 


I 


378 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


could  compete  with  Abelard  or  Sterne  in  that  style  of  epistolography.  On 
the  lady's  part  it  was  a  more  serious  affair,  and  during  all  her  long  life  she 
cherished  the  memory  of  Burns. 

Mrs.  McLehose  wrote  verses,  and  Burns  assisted  her  with  his  criticism. 
The  eight  lines  in  the  text  were  added  to  twelve  written  by  her,  four  of  which 
were  omitted  in  the  Museum. 

The  tune,  rather  commonplace,  was  taken  from  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes, 
J755>  23\  it  is  also  m  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  xi.  10.  A  different 
Banks  of  Spey  is  in  McGlashan's  Reels,  1786,^. 

No.  78.  Thine  am  I,  my  faithful  fair.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  /?. 
'  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  The  MS.  is  in  Brechin  Castle. 
There  is  no  record  of  this  song  before  1793,  but  it  probably  is  one  of  the 
Clarinda  series.  On  sending  it  to  Thomson  the  only  remark  Burns  makes 
is  : '  The  verses  I  hope  will  please  you  as  an  English  song  to  the  air '  (i.  e.  The 
Quaker's  %vife).  In  1795,  two  lines  were  altered  to  fit  Jean  Lorimer.  He 
was  at  that  time  under  the  '  Chloris '  enchantment,  and  he  threatened  to 
anathematize  Thomson  if  he  did  not  make  the  proposed  alterations.  The 
song  was  published  as  desired,  but  to  the  melody  Up  in  the  morning  early, 
without  authority. 

For  the  tune,  The  Quaker's  wife,  or  Merrily  dance  the  Quaker,  see  Song  No.  40. 

No.  79.  Behold  the  hour,  the  boat  arrive  !  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  11 1. 
'Tune,  Oran  gaoir ;  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  7/4.  A  song  altered  in 
December,  1791,  to  connect  it  with  Mrs.  McLehose,  who  was  about  to  leave 
for  the  West  Indies.  The  original  begins  : — 

'  Behold,  the  fatal  hour  arrive, 
Nice,  my  Nice,  ah,  farewell.' 

The  tune  Oran  Gaoil  is  referred  to  in  a  letter  to  George  Thomson  of  August, 
1 793.  '  They  have  lately  in  Ireland,  with  great  pomp,  published  an  Irish  air 
as  they  say,  called  Caun  du  delish.  The  fact  is,  in  a  publication  of  Corri's 
a  great  while  ago,  you  find  the  same  air  called  a  Highland  one,  with  a  Gaelic 
song  set  to  it.  Its  name  there,  I  think,  is  Oran  Gaoil,  and  a  fine  air  it  is.' 
More  than  a  year  afterwards  he  returns  to  the  subject.  '  The  other  one  in  your 
collection  Oran  gaoil,  which  you  think  is  Irish,  they  claim  as  theirs  by  the 
name  of  Caun  du  delish,  but  look  into  your  publications  of  Scottish  Songs,  and 
you  will  find  it  as  a  Gaelic  Song,  with  the  words  in  that  language,  a  wretched 
translation  of  which  original  words  is  set  to  the  tune  in  the  Museum.  Your 
worthy  Gaelic  priest  gave  me  that  translation,  and  at  his  table  I  heard  both 
the  original  and  the  translation  sung  by  a  large  party  of  Highland  gentlemen, 
all  of  whom  had  no  other  idea  of  the  tune  than  that  it  was  a  native  of  their  own 
country.'  The  authorities  referred  to  by  Burns  are  Corri's  Scots  Songs,  1 783, 
ii.  29,  and  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  .27^.  The  old  Jew,  in  the 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1753,  v.  19,  has  only  a  remote  resemblance 
to  this  admirable  Celtic  melody. 

No.  80.  Clarinda,  mistress  of  my  soul.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  198,  entitled  Clarinda.  Signed  '  B.'  Written  early  in  1788,  during  the 
Clarinda  craze.  Thomson  inserted  them  in  his  Select  Melodies,  1822,  hi.  ij, 
altering  some  of  the  lines  without  authority.  He  set  them  to  an  original 
melody  of  little  merit  by  Stephen  Clarke,  the  friend  of  Burns. 

The  tune  in  the  Museum  is  the  composition  of  Schetki,  according  to  Burns  in 
the  Interleaved  Museum,  where  he  acknowledges  the  verses.  The  music,  in  the 
style  of  a  psalm-tune,  does  not  resemble  the  secular  music  of  the  country. 

No.  81.  Now  in  her  green  mantle  blythe  Nature  arrays.  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1 799, 99.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  On  December 
9,  1794,  Burns  wrote  to  Thomson  that  he  had  just  framed  this  song.  A  short 
time  before  he  had  styled  Clarinda  a  ci-devant  goddess  of  his.  His  last  letter 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :     PERSONAL 


379 


to  Mrs.  McLehose  is  dated  June  25, 1794.    Scott-Donglas  makes  a  curious  sug- 
gestion that  this  song  is  her  composition,  which  Burns  abstracted. 

The  tune  for  this  celebrated  lyric,  Therll  never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes 
hame,  is  a  Jacobite  melody.  Thomson  disregarded  Burns's  direction,  and  set  the 
song  to  the  Irish  tune  Coolin.  In  vocal  collections  the  song  is  printed  with 
a  modern  tune.  It  is  now  for  the  first  time  associated  with  the  music  for  which 
it  was  written,  otherwise  known  as  There  are  few  good  fellows  when  Jamie'' 's 
awa  .  See  time  No.  302. 

No.  82.  O  May,  thy  morn  was  ne'er  sae  sweet.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  464,  signed  '  B.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  verses  are 
supposed  to  commemorate  the  last  interview  with  '  Clarinda.'  Bums  entitled 
the  tune  The  Rashes,  which  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1753,  v.  26.  The 
editor  of  the  Mttsettm  considerably  altered  the  tune.  The  music  in  the  text  is 
taken  from  the  copy  Burns  directed.  It  is  now  best  known  as  The  ivee  wee 
German  Lairdie,  from  a  song  which  originally  appeared  in  Cromek's  Nithsdale 
and  Galloway  Song,  1810,  written  probably  by  Allan  Cunningham,  although 
vouched  as  old  by  the  Ettrick  Shepherd.  Tibbie  Shiel,  of  St.  Mary's  Loch,  the 
celebrated  hostess  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  sung  it  to  The  dowie  dens  of  Yarrow. 
It  is  set  to  that  well-known  ballad  in  Kidson's  Traditional  Tunes,  1891,  21 ;  it 
also  did  modern  service  in  Yorkshire  to  a  Roxburgh  ballad,  A  lamentable  IMV 
ditty  .  .  .  to  a  delicate  Scottish  time.  In  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  xi. 
23,  the  tune  is  repeated  under  the  title  When  the  King  comes  o'er  the  water. 

No.  83.  Ance  mair  I  hail  thee.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  499, 
signed  'R.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  An  unfinished  copy  of  the 
verses  was  sent  to  '  Clarinda'  about  the  end  of  December,  1791.  Stenhouse  has 
asserted  that  Burns  wrote  the  song  for  the  tune  Wandering-  Willie,  but  that  is 
incorrect.  On  the  MS.  of  the  song,  Burns  wrote  as  follows  :  '  Tune,  Thro1 
the  lang  muir  I  followed  him  hame.  See  this  tune,  Oswald's  Book  [vii.]  jo.' 
It  is  also  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  34. 

No.  84.  Ae  fond  kiss,  and  then  we  sever !  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  347,  signed  'X,'  entitled  Rory  Dallas  port.  This  impassioned  lyric 
also  belongs  to  the  second  cycle  of  the  '  Clarinda'  series.  The  lady  had  arranged 
to  rejoin  her  husband  in  the  West  Indies,  and  the  verses  refer  to  her  departure 
in  December,  1791.  Burns  sent  her  copies  of  a  few  songs  at  the  same  time, 
saying  '  I  have  just  been  composing  to  different  tunes,  for  the  Collection  of 
Songs  [Johnson's  Museum~\,  of  which  you  have  three  volumes,  and  of  which 
you  shall  have  the  fourth.' 

The  air  Rory  D all's  port  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1756, 
viii.  24.  In  StralocKs  MS.  1629,  there  is  a  different  melody  of  the  same  name. 
Rory  Dall  was  the  cognomen  of  a  succession  of  harpers  attached  to  the  family 
of  Macleod  of  Skye.  Port  is  the  generic  name  for  the  national  Celtic  airs  of  the 
Highlands  of  Scotland.  A  large  number  of  ports  are  believed  to  be  still  floating 
in  the  Western  Highlands,  unrecorded. 

No.  85.  Sensibility  how  charming.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No. 329.  Select  Melodies,  1822,  iii.  36.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum. 
After  Burns  relinquished  Ellisland  and  before  removing  to  Dumfries,  he  made 
an  excursion  to  Edinburgh,  on  which  occasion  he  paid  a  visit  to  Clarinda. 
The  correspondence  between  them,  which  abruptly  terminated  in  1788  in  con- 
sequence ot  his  marriage,  was  resumed  in  1791,  and  this  watery  song  was 
written  in  return  for  some  verses  she  sent  to  him.  Copies  were  forwarded  to 
Mrs.  Dunlop  and  Mrs.  Stewart  of  Afton.  In  the  Miiseiim  MS.  the  song  is 
directed  to  be  sung  to  Cornwallis  lament  for  Colonel  Moorhouse,  a  poor 
composition  of  the  professional  type,  written  by  a  Malcolm  Stewart.  No 
ordinary  human  voice  can  reach  all  the  notes  in  the  tune.  To  account  for 
the  great  compass  of  many  of  the  Scottish  melodies,  it  is  necessary  to  know 
that  \hefalsetto  voice  was  much  used  among  the  peasantry. 


38o 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


f.  *  Chloris  '  (Jean  Lorimer) . 

No.  86.  From  the  white-blossom'd  sloe.  This  fugitive  fragment  is  said 
to  have  been  published  in  a  newspaper  in  the  year  1800.  It  is  in  Stewart's 
edition,  1802  ;  Edinburgh  edition,  1877,  iii.  205.  The  authorship  has  been 
disputed,  but  the  holograph  of  Burns  is  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Walter  Steven, 
Montrose.  Early  last  century  a  second  stanza  was  added,  and  William  Shield 
composed  an  original  air  for  the  verses  and  published  it  as  a  sheet-song.  The 
lines  have  been  attributed  to  Charles  Dibdin,  but  Hogarth  very  properly  has 
not  included  them  in  Dibdin's  Works.  In  a  modern  popular  collection  of 
songs,  the  stanza  of  Burns  is  stated  to  be  by  John  O'Keefe. 

No.  87.  Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie?  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  470,  signed  '  B/  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  77.  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  Written  for  Miss  Janet  Miller  of  Dalswinton,  and  referred  to 
as  follows  in  a  letter  to  Alexander  Cunningham,  dated  March  3,  1794: 
'  Apropos,  do  you  know  the  much-admired  Highland  air  called  The  stilors 
dochtorl  It  is  a  firstrate  favourite  of  mine,  and  I  have  written  what  I  reckon 
one  of  my  best  songs  to  it.  I  will  send  it  to  you,  set  as  I  think  it  should  be, 
and  as  it  was  sung  with  great  applause  in  many  fashionable  groups  by  Major 
Robertson,  of  Lude,  who  was  here  with  his  corps.'  Cunningham  showed  the 
song  to  Thomson,  who  admired  it.  Burns  inquired  if  he  intended  it  for 
publication,  but  the  reply  was  apparently  indefinite,  and  Burns  sent  a  copy 
to  Johnson  for  the  Museum.  A  note  in  the  MS.  states  that  the  song  is  to 
be  set  to  the  first  part  of  the  tune,  entitled  The  shoemakers  daughter,  in 
Stewart's  Reels,  1763,  7.2  ;  as  The  suitors  daughter in  McGlashan's  Strathspey 
Reels,  1780,  6 ;  and  in  Cumming's  Strathspeys,  1780,  No.  10,  as  the  Dutchess 
of  Bucdeugtis  Reell. 

No.  88.  Why,  why  tell  thy  lover.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  2jit 
entitled  '  Fragment.  Tune,  The  Caledonian  Hunt's  Delight?  This  was  sent 
to  Thomson  with  the  explanation:  'Such  is  the  peculiarity  of  the  rhythm  of  this 
air,  that  I  find  it  impossible  to  make  another  stanza  to  suit  it ' ;  and  so  the  song 
remained  unfinished.  Thomson  replied  that  the  lines  would  suit,  but  preferred 
bacchanalian  verses  which  he  thought  fitted  the  pace  and  gait  of  the  music. 
On  the  margin  of  the  MS.  Thomson  wrote  that  he  would  take  the  song  for 
some  other  air  (which  he  never  found),  and  inserted  instead  the  verses  of 
Ye  Banks  and  Braes  with  the  melody. 

P'or  the  tune,  see  Song  No.  123. 

No.  89.  Sleep'st  thou,  or  wak'st  thou,  fairest  creature  ?  Currie,  Works, 
iv.  181,  entitled  'The  lover's  morning  sahite  to  his  mistress.  Tune,  Deil  tak  the 
•wars';  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  7/7.  The  MS.  is  in  Brechin  Castle. 
Jean  Lorimer  is  now  an  imposing  figure  in  the  canvass  of  Burns.  The  first 
draft  of  Sleep^st  thou  differs  materially  from  that  printed,  showing  that  it  was 
revised  and  polished.  Burns  hoped  that  Thomson  would  insert  the  song  in  his 
next  volume.  Thomson  suggested  English  verses,  but  Burns  replied  :  '  I  could 
easily  throw  this  into  an  English  mould  ;  but  to  my  taste,  in  the  simple  and 
tender  of  the  pastoral  song,  a  sprinkling  of  the  old  Scottish  has  an  inimitable 
effect.'  He  declined  to  alter  what  he  had  written,  and  Thomson  was  told  that 
he  could  reject  the  song  or  place  it  as  a  secondary  one,  or  set  it  to  the  air  and 
put  the  old  song  second.  The  editor  wished  to  insert  in  Scotish  Airs  the  verses 
of  Deil  tak  the  wars  from  Durfey's  Wit  and  Mirth,  1698,  but  Burns  fell  foul 
of  him  for  proposing  that  such  rubbish  (well-known  in  Scotland)  should  be 
selected  for  a  Scottish  collection. 

The  tune,  variously  named,  is  said  to  be  in  Leyderis  MS.,  1690 ;  it  is  in 
Atkinsons  MS.,  1694;  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  i.  294,  entitled  A  Scotch  Song; 
Oswald's  Curious  Scots  Tunes,  1740, 26  ;  Caledonian  locket  Companion,  1743, 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :     PERSONAL 


i.  7;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  117 ;  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786, 
340  ;  and  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 790,  No.  262. 

No.  90.  Sweet  fa's  the  eve  on  Craigieburn.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1 798,  J2.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  This  is  the  second  set  of 
the  song  Sweet  closes  the  evning  on  Craigieburn  Wood,  which  had  previously 
been  published  in  Johnson's  Museum,  1792,  No.  301,  and  now  fitted  for  his 
friend  John  Gillespie,  who  had  fallen  in  love  with  Jean  Lorimer,  or  the  *  Chloris' 
of  his  songs.  Burns  explained  to  Thomson  how  it  was  penned,  and  was  anxious 
that  it  should  be  published.  He  says :  '  The  lady  on  whom  it  was  made  is  one 
of  the  finest  women  in  Scotland,  and  in  fact,  is  in  a  manner  to  me,  what  Sterne's 
Eliza  was  to  him.  ...  I  assure  you  that  to  my  lovely  friend  you  are  indebted 
for  many  of  your  best  songs  of  mine.  .  .  .  The  lightning  of  her  eye  is  the 
godhead  of  Parnassus,  and  the  witchery  of  her  smile  the  divinity  of  Helicon.' 

Burns  obtained  the  melody  from  '  the  singing  of  a  girl,'  and  communicated  it 
to  the  Museum  when  he  sent  the  first  version.  In  the  Interleaved  Museum  he 
made  a  note  on  the  tune,  which  is  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  folk-melody 
of  Scotland. 

No.  91.  Sae  flaxen  were  her  ringlets.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  447,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  '  She  says  she  lc?es  me  best  of  a'.  An  Irish  air.' 
Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  190.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The 
song  was  sent  to  Thomson,  September,  1794,  in  a  letter:  'Do  you  know 
a  blackguard  Irish  song,  Oonaghs  waterfalll  The  air  is  charming,  and  I  have 
often  regretted  the  want  of  decent  verses  to  it.  It  is  too  much,  at  least  for  my 
humble  rustic  muse  to  expect  that  every  effort  of  hers  must  have  merit ;  still, 
I  think  it  is  better  to  have  mediocre  verses  to  a  favourite  air,  than  none  at  all. 
On  this  principle  I  have  all  along  proceeded  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  and 
...  1  intend  the  following  song  to  the  air  I  mentioned,  for  that  work.  If  it 
does  not  suit  you  as  an  editor,  you  may  be  pleased  to  have  verses  to  it,  that 
you  may  sing  it  before  ladies.' 

The  tune  Oonagh's  waterfall  deserves  the  praise  Burns  gave  it.  It  is  still 
well  known  and  popular  in  Ireland.  The  music  is  in  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1796,  No.  447.  I  do  not  know  where  an  earlier  imprint  can  be 
found.  Tom  Moore  copied  the  melody,  and  it  is  still  reprinted  as  in  the 
Museum.  Mr.  Glen  states  that  it  was  introduced  into  Shield's  ballad  opera 
Marian,  1788. 

No.  92.  Can  I  cease  to  care?  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  227,  entitled 
lOn  Chloris  being  ill.  Tune,  Ay,waukin,  0' ;'  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1801, 
///,  where  it  is  mutilated  by  garbled  verses  and  a  modern  set  of  the  air  which 
destroys  its  character.  For  the  Notes,  see  No.  247. 

No.  93.  Their  groves  o*  sweet  myrtle.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
9J-.  '  By  Robert  Burns.  Air,  The  humours  of  Glen.'  The  MS.  is  in  the 
Thomson  collection.  Written  in  April,  1795.  Currie  was  enthusiastic  over 
the  song,  and  predicted  that  it  would  be  sung  by  emigrant  Scots  with  equal 
or  superior  interest  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  or  the  Mississippi,  than  on  the 
Tay  or  the  Tweed.  His  forecast  is  true,  but  not  in  the  way  intended  ;  for  it  is 
equally  neglected  at  home  and  abroad.  Burns  wrote  to  Thomson :  '  The  Irish 
air,  Humours  of  Glen,  is  a  great  favourite  of  mine,  and  except  the  silly  verses 
in  the  Poor  soldier,  there  are  not  any  decent  verses  for  it.'  The  poor  soldier 
is  one  of  O'Keefe's  successful  operas  written  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  tune  is  in  McLean's  Scots  7^unes,  c.  1772,^,  and  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  j6j.  A  tradition  in  Ireland  assigns  the  composi- 
tion to  one  of  the  family  of  Power,  about  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
who  owned  an  estate  near  Clonmel.  Glyn  or  Glen  is  a  small  country  village 
midway  between  Carrick  and  Clonmel. 


382 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


No.  94.  Mark  yonder  pomp  of  costly  fashion.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv. 
2}).  'Tune,  Deil  tak  the  wars'  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  V7-  The  MS.  is  in  the 
Thomson  collection.  Another  of  the  English  songs  concerning  which  Burns 
wrote  to  Thomson  that  he  took  credit  to  himself  for  answering  orders  with  the 
punctuality  of  a  tailor  making  a  suit  of  clothes.  For  the  tune,  see  No.  89. 

No.  95.  Ah,  Chloris,  since  it  may  not  be.  Aldine  edition,  1839.  '  Tune, 
Major  Graham?  It  may  be  assumed  that  this  was  written  in  1 794.  It  was 
originally  printed  from  the  poet's  MS.  For  the  tune,  see  No.  152. 

No.  96.  I  see  a  form,  I  see  a  face.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  j6. 
'  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  This  is  no  my  ain  house.' 
The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson  collection.  The  first  sketch  made  in  July,  and 
finished  in  August,  1795.  Burns  remarked  that  the  rhythm  of  the  music 
puzzled  him  a  good  deal,  and  he  thought  that  changing  the  first  or  chorus  part 
would  have  a  good  effect. 

The  tune  This  is  no  my  ain  hotise,  or  Abbeyhills  rant,  is  said  to  be  in 
Blaikies  MS.,  1692;  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  32  with  words;  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  ij6,  and  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  xi.  8.  Verses  are 
marked  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  in  Ramsay's  Miscellany,  1725  ;  and  Herd's  Scots 
Songs,  1769,  190.  Thomson  is  responsible  for  making  considerable  variations 
in  the  melody. 

No.  97.  O,  bonie  was  yon  rosy  brier.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  242, 
entitled  '  Scottish  Song';  Thomson's  Scolish  Airs,  1801,  nj.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  Thomson  collection.  Written  for  Stephen  Clarke,  who  proposed  to  set  it 
to  an  original  melody  for  publication  in  sheet  form.  The  arrangement  was  not 
carried  through,  and  Burns  instructed  Thomson  to  print  his  song  with  the  tune 
/  wish  my  love  were  in  a  mire.  Thomson  published  it  with  quite  a  different 
melody.  Of  /  wish  my  love  were  in  a  mire,  That  I  *may  pd  her  out  again, 
Burns  says  in  the  Interleaved  Museum :  '  I  never  heard  more  of  the  old  words 
of  this  old  song  than  the  title.'  The  music  is  said  to  be  in  Crockatfs  MS., 
1709;  it  is  in  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No./,  to  verses  by  'namby-pamby  ' 
Phillips  beginning'  Blest  as  the  immortal  Gods':  Ramsay's  Mustek,  c.  1726; 
Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730,^/5  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  ij  ;  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1754,  vi.  9;  Bremner's  Scots  Songs  (second  series),  1757,  7i 
and  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  41. 

No.  98.  O,  wat  ye  wha  that  lo'es  me.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  67. 
'  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Morag?  The  precise  date  when 
it  was  written  has  not  been  ascertained,  but  probably  in  the  autumn  of  1795, 
for  in  January,  1796,  in  forwarding  a  copy  to  Robert  Cleghorn,  Burns 
apologizes  for  not  sending  it  sooner,  and  excuses  himself  for  the  omission. 
He  had  lost  a  young  and  darling  daughter,  and  immediately  after,  was 
attacked  by  rheumatic  fever  which  kept  him  many  weeks  in  bed.  Cleghorn 
had  previously  met  Jean  Lorimer  at  Burns's  house,  and  was  interested  in  the 
poet's  model. 

The  song  is  marked  for  the  tune  Morag,  as  Burns  did  not  consider  that  his 
Young  Highland  rover  fitted  that  melody.  See  Song  No.  292. 

No.  99.  There's  nane  shall  ken.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  4j8.  The  MS.  in  the  British  Museum  contains  the  following  holograph 
note  :  '  This  tune  is  evidently  the  old  air,  We  II  gang  nae  mair  to  yon  town, 
and  I  suspect  it  is  not  the  best  set  of  the  air,  but  in  Bowie's  and  other 
collections  the  old  tune  is  to  be  found,  and  you  can  correct  this  by  these  copies.' 
Burns  was  always  at  his  best  in  the  songs  for  the  Museum.  He  worked  in  his 
natural  element  unfettered,  and  was  never  gravelled  in  the  compulsory  use  of 
English  to  satisfy  an  editor  who  wished  to  suppress  the  Scottish  vernacular. 
The  airy  freedom  of  this  little  lyric  may  be  compared  with  the  laboured  verses 


I.      LOVE-SONGS  I     PERSONAL 


of  No.  106  for  the  same  tune,  written  for  Thomson.     The  old  song,  as  quoted 
by  Stenhouse,  began : — 

^  '  I'll  gang  nae  mair  to  yon  town, 

O,  never  a'  my  life  again  ; 
I'll  ne'er  gae  back  to  yon  town 

To  seek  anither  wife  again.' 

The  tune  /'//  gae  nae  mair  to  your  \^yon\  town  is  in  Bremner's  Scots  Reels, 
1757,1.  6\  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,^7:  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  j/;  and 
in  Bowie's  Reels,  1789,  to  which  Burns  referred  the  printer  of  the  Museum. 

No.  100.  Behold,  my  love,  how  green  the  groves.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  188.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1818,  201.  The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson 
collection.  The  original  version  began  'My  Chloris,  mark  how  green  the 
groves,'  but  was  altered  to  that  in  our  text.  The  first  copy  was  transmitted  to 
Thomson  in  November,  1794,  in  a  letter  stating  that  Chloris  suggested  the 
verses.  Burns  had  previously  disapproved  of  a  song  chosen  by  Thomson  for 
the  tune  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground,  and  Behold  my  love  was  written 
for  it.  The  popular  melody  of  the  name — of  either  English  or  Irish  origin — 
was  first  printed  in  Vocal  Music,  London,  1775,  18,  and  very  soon  afterwards 
became  popular  in  Scotland.  It  ejected  an  earlier  tune  which  had  held  its 
ground  for  more  than  a  century.  The  original  (that  copied  in  our  text) 
composed  by  Matthew  Lock,  is  the  finer  melody  of  the  two.  Nell  Gwyn,  in 
the  play  of  All  Mistaken,  1672,  sang  it  to  a  parody  satirizing  Moll  Davis  her 
rival,  who  was  short  and  fat,  thus : — 

'  My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  boards 
And  wonderful  hard  is  my  fare; 
But  that  which  troubles  me  most  is 

The  fatness  of  my  dear,'  &c. 

The  tune  known  by  the  titles  On  the  cold  ground,  or  I  prithee  love,  turn  to 
me,  is  in  the  Dancing  Master,  1665  ;  Music  Ks  Delight,  1666 ;  and  Apollo's 
Banquet,  1669. 

No.  101.  *Twas  na  her  bonie  blue  e*e  was  my  ruin.  Currie,  Works, 
1800,  iv.  229.  'Tune,  Laddie  lie  near  me?  The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson 
collection.  In  a  letter  to  Thomson,  dated  September,  1793,  Burns  explains  his 
manner  of  writing  songs  and  choice  of  melodies.  '  Laddie  lie  near  me,  must 
lie  by  me  for  some  time.  I  do  not  know  the  air ;  and  until  I  am  complete 
master  of  a  tune,  in  my  own  singing  (such  as  it  is),  I  never  can  compose  for  it. 
My  way  is :  I  consider  the  poetic  sentiment  correspondent  to  my  idea  of  the 
musical  expression ;  then  choose  my  theme ;  begin  one  stanza ;  when  that  is 
composed,  which  is  generally  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  business,  I  walk  out, 
sit  down  now  and  then,  look  out  for  subjects  in  nature  around  me  that  are  in 
unison  and  harmony  with  the  cogitations  of  my  fancy,  and  workings  of  my 
bosom,  humming  every  now  and  then  the  air  with  the  verses  I  have  framed. 
When  I  feel  my  muse  beginning  to  jade,  I  retire  to  the  solitary  fireside  of  my 
study,  and  then  commit  my^effusion  to  pnper;  swinging  at  intervals  on  the 
hindlegs  of  my  elbow-chair,  b*y  way  of  calling  forth  my  own  critical  strictures 
as  my  pen  goes  on.  Seriously,  this  at  home  is  almost  invariably  my  way.' 
In  April,  1795, '  Twas  na  her  bonie  blue  £e  was  completed,  but  in  the  following 
May  he  suppressed  it  as  unworthy  of  his  pen.  A  black-letter  English  ballad 
of  the  seventeenth  century  to  a  'northern  tune'  is  entitled  The  longing 
shepherdess,  or  Lady  lie  near  me.  Ritson  discovered  a  Northumberland  ballad 
which  begins : — 

'  Down  in  yon  valley,  soft  shaded  by  mountains 
Heard  I  a  lad  an'  lass  making  acquaintance  ; 
Making  acquaintance  and  singing  so  clearly, 
Lang  hae  I  lain  my  lane,  laddie  lie  near  me.' 


384 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  English  melody  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1650,  copied  into 
Chappell's  Popular  Music,  i8j,  is  not  the  same  as  that  in  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No.  218.  The  Scottish  tune  is  also  in  McGibbqn's  Scots 
Tunes,  1 768,  iv.  116 ;  and  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1 760,  xii.  /. 
See  Tune  and  Notes,  No.  142. 

No.  102.  O,  poortith  cauld  and  restless  love.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1798,  49.  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns/  and  in  honour  of  Jean 
Lorimer,  who  eloped  with  a  young  Cumberland  farmer,  named  Whelpdale,  and 
made  a  hasty  marriage,  which  she  had  leisure  to  repent.  After  an  experience 
of  three  weeks,  she  returned  to  her  father's  house.  Her  husband  retired  before 
his  creditors,  and  left  the  country.  The  song  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  January, 
1793,  with  a  request  to  set  it  to  the  tune  Cauld  kail,  but  the  editor  neglected 
the  instruction.  In  April,  Burns  revised  the  song  as  in  the  text,  and  agreed  to 
change  the  tune,  but  he  had  a  very  poor  opinion  of  the  verses,  and  told 
Thomson  that  '  The  stuff  won't  bear  mending,  yet  for  private  reasons  I  should 
like  to  see  them  in  print.'  Cauld  kail  had  always  been  associated  with 
rollicking  humorous  songs,  but  Burns  treated  the  air  as  a  slow  measure. 

Among  the   Cauld  kail  songs,  that  not   the   best  perhaps,  but  the  most 
respectable,  written  by  the  Duke  of  Gordon,  the  friend  of  Burns,  is  on  dancing 
— the  engrossing  recreation  of  the  Scots.     A  stanza  may  be  quoted  : — 
'  In  cotillons  the  French  excel ; 
John  Bull,  in  contra-dances, 
The  Spaniards  dance  fandangoes  well, 
.  Mynheer  in  All'mande  prances; 
In  foursome  reels  the  Scots  delight, 

The  threesome  maist  dance  wondrous  light; 
But  twasome  ding  a'  out  o'  sight 

Danc'd  to  the  reel  of  Bogie.' 

Gie  the  lass  herfairin,  lad,  is  a  song  for  the  tune  in  the  Merry  Muses.    One 
of  the  earliest  of  the  kind  is  that  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1 769, 314,  written  on  the 
first  Earl  of  Aberdeen,  an  octogenarian  widower,  who  died  in  1 720.    It  begins  : — 
'Cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen, 

And  castocks  in  Strathbogie ; 
But  yet  I  fear  they'll  cook  o'er  soon, 

And  never  warm  the  cogie. 
The  lassies  about  Bogie  gicht, 
Their  limbs  they  are  sae  clean  and  tight, 
That  if  they  were  but  guided  right 
They'll  dance  the  reel  o'  Bogie.' 

I  do  not  know  where  an  earlier  copy  of  the  tune  is  to  be  seen  than  in  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 788,  No.  162.  It  is  in  Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1794,  ii.  61. 
A  song  is  in  a  collection  of  fugitive  poetry  in  the  Advocate's  Library,  which 
belonged  to  James  Anderson,  the  eminent  antiquary,  who  died  in  1728.  It 
begins : — 

'  The  cald  kail  of  Aberdeen, 

Is  warming  at  Strathbogie; 
I  fear  'twill  tine  the  heat  o'er  sune, 
And  ne'er  fill  up  the  cogie.' 

(Maidment,  Songs,- 1859,  20.} 

This  is  precisely  the  rhythm  of  the  tune,  for  which  see  No.  aaj,  incorrectly 
marked  228  in  text. 

No.  103.  Now  Nature  deeds  the  flowery  lea.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv. 
192.  Tune,  Rothemurches  rant.  Scotish  Airs,  1801,221.  A  MS.  is  in  the 
Thomson  collection.  One  of  the  pastoral  lyrics  which  has  helped  to  make 
Burns  famous.  It  was  written  for  an  instrumental  air  of  much  beauty,  although 


I.      LOVE-SONGS  :    PERSONAL 


385 


in  this,  as  in  many  other  cases,  Burns  failed  to  win  for  it  the  approval  of  his 
dilettante  editor.  A  fragment  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  a  letter  about  September, 
1794.  The  poet  had  gauged  Thomson's  taste  in  verses  and  airs,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  anticipate  an  unfavourable  reception  for  Lassie  w?  the  lint-white 
locks,  so  he  says :  '  I  am  sensible  that  my  taste  in  music  must  be  inelegant  and 
vulgar,  because  people  of  undisputed  and  cultivated  taste  can  find  no  merit  in 
many  of  my  favourite  tunes.  Still,  because  I  am  cheaply  pleased,  is  that  any 
reason  why  I  should  deny  myself  that  pleasure  ?  Many  of  our  strathspeys, 
ancient  and  modern,  give  me  exquisite  enjoyment,  where  you  and  other  judges 
would  probably  be  showing  signs  of  disgust.  For  instance,  I  am  just  now 
making  verses  to  Rothiemurche 's  Rant,  an- air  which  puts  me  into  raptures; 
and  in  fact,  unless  I  be  pleased  with  the  tune,  I  never  can  make  verses  to  it.  ... 
Rothiemurche,  Clarke  says,  is  an  air  both  original  and  beautiful ;  and  on  his 
recommendation,  I  have  taken  the  first  part  of  the  tune  for  a  chorus,  and  the 
fourth  or  last  part  for -the  song.'  In  November  he  completed  the  song,  and 
describes  it  to  Thomson  :  '  This  piece  has  at  least  the  merit  of  being  a  regular 
pastoral ;  the  vernal  morn,  the  summer  noon,  the  autumnal  evening,  and  the 
winter  night,  are  regularly  rounded.  If  you  like  it,  well ;  if  not,  I  will  insert  it 
in  the  Museum!  He  returns  to  the  subject  of  the  tune  before  closing  the  letter, 
as  he  would  not  trust  the  editor  to  arrange  it,  and  says  :  '  On  second  thoughts, 
I  send  you  Clarke's  singing  set  of  Rothemurche ,  which  please  return  me  in 
your  first  letter :  I  know  it  will  not  suit  you.'  Thomson  did  print  it,  but  copied 
the  tune  badly.  The  tune  in  the  text  comprises  the  first  and  fourth  sections  of 
Rothiemurche's  Rant  from  Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1759,  42,  according  to  the 
direction  of  Burns.  It  is  all  that  Burns  describes  it.  The  music  is  also  in 
McGlashan's  Strathspey  Reels,  1780,  77. 

No.  104.  Come,  let  me  take  thee  to  my  breast.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1 799,  gj.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns '  Another  song  on  '  Chloris,' 
sent  in  a  letter  to  Thomson  in  August,  1793,  with  the  following  remark: 
'  That  tune,  Cauld  Kail,  is  such  a  favourite  of  yours  that  I  once  more  roved 
out  yester  evening  for  a  gloaming  shot  at  the  muses  ;  when  the  muse  that 
presides  o'er  the  shores  of  Nith,  or  rather  my  old  inspiring  dearest  nymph, 
Coila,  whispered  me  the  following,1  &c.  The  last  stanza  is  modelled  on  his 
early  song  Peggy  Alison.  ^See  No.jy.)  Burns  said  he  would  have  a  song  to 
celebrate  the  Indy  of  the  rejected  Poortith  cauld  and  restless  love.  This  second 
attempt  to  fit  Cauld  Kail  did  not  satisfy  Thomson  any  more  than  the  first,  and 
he  printed  it  to  the  Irish  air  Ally  Croker,  much  run  on  at  public  concerts  about 
the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  song  is  here  For  the  first  time  directed 
to  its  proper  tune,  for  which  see  Nos.  102  and  225. 

No.  105.  Forlorn  my  love,  no  comfort  near.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  246,  entitled  English  Song.  Tune,  Let  me  in  this  ae  night.  The  MS.  is 
in  the  Thomson  collection,  and  was  introduced  to  Thomson  as  follows  :  '  I  have 
written  it  within  this  hour ;  so  much  for  the  speed  of  my  Pegasus ;  but  what 
say  you  to  his  bottom  ?  '  The  third  stanza  was  unfavourably  criticized  ;'  Burns 
admitted  the  objection,  and  rewrote  it  as  in  the  text.  For  the  tune,  see  No.  7/p, 
under  the  title  Will  ye  lend  me  your  loom,  lass  ? 

No.  106.  Now  haply  down  yon  gay  green  shaw.  Scots  Musical 
Mteseum,  1796,  No.  458  (second  song)  signed  <B,'  for  the  tune,  I'll  gae  nae 
mair  to  yon  town.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,^.  MS.  in  the  Thomson 
collection.  A  specimen  verse  of  this  song,  which  the  poet  styled  '  doggrell ' 
and  suppressed  later  on,  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  order  to  try  the  tune.  The 
following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  dated  Ecclefechan,  February  7,  1795  : 
'  I  came  yesternight  to  this  unfortunate,  wicked  little  village.  I  have  gone 
forward,  but  snows  often  feet  deep  have  impeded  my  progress ;  I  have  tried  to 
"  gae  back  the  gate  I  cam  again,"  but  the  same  obstacle  has  shut  me  up  within 

c  c 


386 


HISTORICAL   NOTES 


insuperable  bars.  To  add  to  my  misfortune,  since  dinner,  a  scraper  has  been 
torturing  cat-gut ....  and  thinks  himself,  on  that  very  account,  exceeding  good 
company.  In  fact,  I  have  been  in  a  dilemma,  either  to  get  drunk,  to  forget 
these  miseries,  or  to  hang  myself,  to  get  rid  of  them  ;  like  a  prudent  man 
(a  character  congenial  to  my  every  thought,  word,  and  deed),  I,  of  two  evils, 
have  chosen  the  least,  and  am  very  drunk  at  your  service  !  .  .  .  Do  you  know 
an  air  We  II  gang  nae  mair  to  yon  town  ?  I  think,  in  slowish  time,  it  would 
make  an  excellent  song.  I  am  highly  delighted  with  it ;  and  if  you  should 
think  it  worthy  of  your  attention,  I  have  a  fair  Dame  in  my  eye  to  whom 
I  would  consecrate  it.'  After  writing  the  stanza  of '  doggrell '  he  went  to  bed, 
and  Thomson  affirms  that  the  handwriting  of  the  poet  shows  that  he  had  chosen 
the  lesser  of  the  two  evils.  In  April  the  song  was  finished,  and  a  month  after- 
ward a  copy  was  sent  to  Syme,  with  ;  Jeanie '  changed  to  '  Lucy '  to  fit 
Mrs.  Oswald,  of  Auchencruive,  whom  he  wished  to  conciliate  for  a  stinging 
epigram  he  had  previously  written  on  her. 

For  the  tune,  see  Song  No.  99,  entitled  in  Bremner's  Reels,  I'll  gae  nae  mair 
to  your  town. 

No.  107.  It  was  the  charming  month  of  May.  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
69.  Written  as  an  English  song  for  Thomson.  Burns  writes,  November, 
1794:  'Despairing  of  my  own  powers  to  give  you  variety  enough  in  English 
songs,  I  have  been  turning  over  old  collections,  to  pick  out  songs  of  which  the 
measure  is  somewhat  similar  to  what  I  want ;  and  with  a  little  alteration,  so  as 
to  suit  the  rhythm  of  the  air  exactly,  to  give  them  for  your  work.  Where  the 
songs  have  hitherto  been  but  little  noticed,  nor  have  ever  been  set  to  music, 
I  think  the  shift  a  fair  one.  A  song  which,  under  the  same  first  verse  of  the 
first  stanza,  you  will  find  in  Ramsay's  Tea-Table  Miscellany  and  elsewhere, 
I  have  cut  down  for  an  English  dress  to  your  Dainty  Davie.  You  may  think 
meanly  of  this,  but  take  a  look  at  the  bombast  original,  and  you  will  be 
surprised  that  I  have  made  so  much  of  it.'  Burns  does  not  underrate  the 
quality  of  the  original  song  of  six  stanzas  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  I725> 
marked  to  be  sung  to  The  happy  clown,  but  he  has  not  improved  it  much. 

For  the  tune  Dainty  Davie,  see  Song  No.  jo8. 

Wo.  108.  Let  not  woman  e'er  complain.  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  48. 
WTritten  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Duncan  Gray.  The  MS.  is  in 
Brechin  Castle.  Written  to  meet  Thomson's  demand  for  English  verses.  It 
is  one  of  the  number  which  Thomson  approved — he  inserted  it  in  his  next 
volume — but  it  is  devoid  of  the  warm  colour  of  the  poet's  Scottish  songs. 
Burns  pathetically  wrote :  '  These  English  songs  gravel  me  to  death.  I  have 
not  that  command  of  the  language  that  I  have  of  my  native  tongue.  In  fact, 
I  think  my  ideas  are  more  barren  in  English  than  in  Scottish.  I  have  been  at 
Duncan  Gray  to  dress  it  in  English,  but  all  I  can  do  is  deplorably  stupid.' — 
Letter,  October,  1794.  The  opinion  of  Burns  on  this  song  need  not  be  disturbed. 

For  Duncan  Gray,  see  Nos.  277  and  179. 

No.  109.  "Where  are  the  joys  I  hae  met  in  the  morning.  Currie, 
Works,  1800,  iv.  12 1.  Tune,  Saw  ye  my  father?  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1801,  102.  MS.  in  the  Brechin  collection.  Sent  to  Thomson  in  September, 
1793,  with  this  note:  '  Saw  ye  my  father?  is  one  of  my  greatest  favourites. 
The  evening  before  last  I  wandered  out,  and  began  a  tender  song  in  what 
I  think  is  its  native  style.  I  must  premise,  that  the  old  way,  and  the  way  to 
give  most  effect,  is  to  have  no  starting  note,  as  the  fiddlers  call  it,  but  to  burst 
at  once  into  the  pathos.  Every  country  girl  sings  Saw  ye  my  father? '  Thomson 
disputed  Burns's  reading  of  the  air,  and  thought  it  should  open  on  an  unaccented 
note.  The  poet  deferred  to  the  editor's  opinion,  but  he  was  right. 

The  early  song  which  Burns  said  delighted  him  with  its  descriptive  simple 
pathos  is  four  stanzas  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1 769, 324,  as  follows  : — 


I.     LOVE-SONGS  :     PERSONAL 


387 


'  O  saw  ye  my  father,  or  saw  ye  my  mother, 

Or  saw  ye  my  true  love,  John? 
I  saw  not  your  father,  I  saw  not  your  mother, 

But  I  saw  your  true  love,  John. 
'  Up  Johnnie  rose,  and  to  the  door  he  goes, 

And  gently  tirled  the  pin  ; 
The  lassie  taking  tent,  unto  the  door  she  went, 

And  she  open'd  and  let  him  in. 
'  Flee,  flee  up,  my  bonny  grey  cock, 

And  craw  whan  it  is  day ; 
Your  neck  shall  be  like  the  bonny  beaten  gold, 

And  your  wings  of  the  silver  grey. 
'  The  cock  prov'd  false,  and  untrue  he  was, 

For  he  crew  an  hour  o'er  soon ; 
The  lassie  thought  it  day  when  she  sent  her  love  away, 

And  it  was  but  a  blink  of  the  moon.' 

The  origin  of  this  beautiful  song  has  been  disputed  by  Chappell  {Popular 
Music,  p.  Jji),  who  claimed  that  the  original  publication  of  five  stanzas  is  in 
Vocal  Music,  or  the  Songster's  Companion,  London,  1772,  ii.  36.  He  stated 
that  a  Scottified  version  was  reprinted  by  Herd  in  1776,  but  I  have  shown  that 
the  song  was  printed  in  Herd's  first  edition  of  1 769.  The  third  stanza  in  Vocal 
Music,  as  follows,  can  be  compared  with  the  above  second  stanza  : — 
'  Then  John  he  up  arose,  and  to  the  door  he  goes, 

And  he  twirled,  he  twirled  at  the  pin ; 
The  lassie  took  the  hint,  and  to  the  door  she  went, 

And  she  let  her  true  love  in.' 

The  English  copyist  discloses  his  ignorance  of  the  Scots  language  in  the 
second  line,  where  the  lover  tirls  the  wooden  latch  or  pin  of  the  door  to  arrest 
his  sweetheart's  attention.  Tivirling  is  not  tirling  at  all,  which  in  this  case  is 
a  tremulous  vibration  of  sound  like  the  clicks  of  an  electric  instrument  trans- 
mitting a  message.  The  song  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  208,  is 
extended  to  seven  stanzas  and  not  improved.  Pinkerton  printed  this  version  in 
Select  Ballads,  1783,  154.  Lastly  a  spurious,  so-called  traditional,  version  in 
Cromek's  Nithsdale  Song,  1810,  74,  is  probably  the  work  of  Allan  Cunningham. 
The  music  of  the  song  as  in  our  text  is  in  Stewart's  Scots  Songs,  1772,  14, 
with  the  original  verses  of  1769.  In  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  76, 
with  the  seven  stanzas  of  1776 ;  and  in  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany  ^1^6, 25. 


II.  LOVE:  GENERAL. 

No.  110.  My  Sandy  gied  to  me  a  ring.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  204,  entitled  /  love  my  love  in  secret.  This  song  is  a  near  copy  with 
alterations  of  one  in  Herd's  MS.  In  Law's  MS.  List  for  the  Museum,  Burns 
wrote:  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words.'  In  Scotland  it  was  customary  for  lovers  who 
were  to  be  temporarily  separated,  to  break  a  silver  coin  at  time  of  parting, 
each  keeping  a  piece  as  a  pledge  to  be  faithful  during  absence.  The  custom 
is  described  in  Logic  o*  Buchan : — 

'He  had  but  a  saxpence,  he  brak  it  in  twa 
And  gied  me  the  hauf  o't  when  he  gaed  awa.' 
c  c  a 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  oldest  form  of  the  well-known  tune  Logie  o"  Buchan  is  derived  from  /  love 
my  love  in  secret,  which  is  in  Guthries  MS.,  according  to  Dauney;  in  Playford's 
Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700;  in  Sinkler's  MS.,  Glasgow,  1710;  in  McGibbon's 
Scots  Times,  1742,  4  ;  in  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745,  ii.  26 ;  and 
other  collections. 

No.  111.  There  *s  nought  but  care  on  ev»ry  han'.  Qf  this  song  all  but 
the  last  stanza  is  in  the  Commonplace  Book,  under  the  date  Aug.,  1784.  In  its 
complete  form  it  was  published  in  the  Edinburgh  edition,  1787,  323,  and  with 
the  tune  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  77,  as  the  earliest  song 
-of  Burns  printed  with  music.  In  a  passage  in  the  Commonplace  Book, 
p.  20,  Burns  divides  young  men  into  two  classes — the  grave  and  the  merry  ; 
and  in  a  later  reference  to  the  subject,  instead  of  stating  to  which  class 
he  himself  belongs,  he  quotes  the  fragment  of  Green  grow  the  rashes,  so 
that  the  reader  may  determine  the  matter  himself.  The  song  is  so  free  and 
spontaneous  in  its  rhythm  and  cadence,  as  to  require  no  music  to  interpret  it. 
It  is  as  popular  now  as  when  first  given  to  the  public ;  not  even  a  century  has 
diminished  its  lustre.  The  earlier  rustic  song  which  Burns  knew,  and  had 
in  his  mind  when  he  wrote  his  own  poem,  cannot  be  printed  entire.  It  is 
a  humorous  satire  on  manners,  one  stanza  running  thus : — 

'  We  're  a'  dry  wi'  drinkin  o't, 
We're  a'  dry  wi'  drinkin  o't, 
The  minister  kissed  the  fiddler's  wife, 
And  could  na  preach  for  thinkin  o't.' 

Two  highly-flavoured  songs  for  the  tune  are  in  the  Merry  Muses.  In  1794 
Thomson  proposed  to  set  the  verses  to  the  tune  Cauld  Kail,  but  Burns  objected, 
saying  that  as  the  old  song  was  current  in  Scotland  under  the  old  title,  and 
to  the  merry  old  tune  of  that  name,  the  introduction  of  his  verses  with  a  new 
tune  would  mar  its  celebrity.  Cou  thou  me  the  raschyes  green  is  named  in  the 
Complaynt  of  Scotland,  c.  1549.  A  tune  with  this  title,  which  is  in  a  MS.  in 
the  British  Museum,  is  quite  a  different  melody  from  that  in  the  text;  but 
the  germ  of  the  present  air  is  in  Straloch's  MS.,  1627,  entitled  A  dance:  Green 
grow  the  rashes.  It  was  known  later  as  /  kist  her  while  she  blusht,  evidently 
from  the  first  line  or  refrain  of  forgotten^  verses.  In  Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  64, 
it  is  named  The  Grant's  Rant^ Its  earliest  "appearance  in  print  is  in  Oswald's 
Curious  Collection  Scots  Tunes,  1740,  p.  42.  It  is  in  Oswald's  Companion, 
1743,  i.  18;  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  i},  and  many  other  tune-books  of  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  century. 

No.  112.  O,  whar  gat  ye  that  hauver-meal  bannock  ?  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1787,  No.  pp,  entitled  Bonie  Dundee,  with  the  tune  of  the  same 
name.  Cromek's  Scotish  Songs,  1810,  ii.  202',  Lawrie's  Scottish  Songs,  1791, 
ii.  p/.  Early  in  1787,  the  Earl  of  Buchan  sent  a  complimentary  letter  to 
Burns,  who  carried  it  in  his  pocket  for  some  time,  and  ultimately  used  the 
dingy  blank  leaf  at  one  of  the  meetings  of  the  Crochallan  Club  to  pencil 
the  opening  lines  of  Bonie  Dundee,  which  his  friend  Robert  Cleghorn  had  just 
sung.  A  short  time  afterwards  he  sent  to  the  latter  the  verses  in  the  text. 
Stenhouse  says  that  the  first  four  lines  are  old ;  while,  according  to  Scott- 
Douglas,  the  first  eight  lines  are  in  the  original  song.  Neither  statement 
is  correct ;  for  only  the  first  two  lines  of  the  song  are  in  the  original  broadside 
(in  the  Pepys  and  other  collections),  reprinted  in  Wit  and  Mirth,  London,  1703, 
as  follows : — 

'  Where  gott'st  thou  the  Haver-meal  bonack  ? 

Blind  Booby,  can'st  thon  not  see; 
I'se  got  it  out  of  the  Scotch-man's  wallet, 

As  he  lig  lousing  him  under  a  tree. 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL 


389 


'  Come  fill  up  my  cup,  come  fill  up  my  can, 
Come  saddle  my  horse,  and  call  up  my  man ; 
Come  open  the  gates,  and  let  me  go  free, 
And  I'se  gang  no  more  to  bonny  Dundee/ 

The  title  is  Bonny  Dundee;  or,  Jockey's  Deliverance,  &c.,  in  Collection  of 
Old  Ballads,  1723,  27;.  It  describes,  in  ten  stanzas,  the  intrigue  of  a  licentious 
trooper  with  a  parson's  daughter.  This  song  was  very  popular  in  England, 
and  was  often  reprinted.  It  is  named  in  A  second  tale  of  a  tub,  published  in 
1715,  as  one  which  the  Blue  bonnets  sang  in  London.  A  fragmentary  stanza 
in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1 769,  311,  is  evidently  a  purified  remnant  of  the  song. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  adopted  the  chorus  in  Up  wi^  the  bonnets  d1  bonnie  Dundee. 

The  tune  is  in  the  Skene  MS.,  c.  1630,  entitled  Adew  Dundee,  here  reprinted. 
It  is  in  P  lay  ford's  Dancing  Master,  published  in  1688,  and  afterwards,  with  the 
words,  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  v.  17.  The  music,  as  a  dance  tune,  is  in  the 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751,  iii.  -/,  and  in  many  other  instrumental 
collections. 

The  simplicity  of  the  melody  is  considerably  obscured  in  all  the  printed 
copies.  Durfey  corrupted  it  with  unmeaning  flourishes ;  it  was  partly  restored 
in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  but  still  a  good  deal  removed  from  the 
plain  smoothness  of  the  original.  Copies  are  also  in  Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730, 
22,  and  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,36. 

There  are  two  songs  in  the  Merry  Muses  for  the  tune ;  and  Cromek,  Scotish 
Songs  1810,  ii.  207,  gives  the  following  as  the  stanza  of  an  old  song : — 
'Ye 're  like  to  the  timiner  o'  yon  rotten  wood, 

Ye 're  like  to  the  bark  o'  yon  rotten  tree, 
Ye  slip  frae  me  like  a  knotless  thread, 

An'  ye'll  crack  your  credit  wi'  mae  than  me.' 

No.  113.  Now  simmer  blinks  on  flow'ry  braes.    Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.///,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Birks  of  Aberfeldy.     This  is  the   earliest 
of  the  series  of  songs  due  to  the  first  tour  in  the  Highlands  in  company  with 
William  Nicol,  of  the  High  School  of  Edinburgh.    On  August  30,  1787,  Bums 
arrived  at  Aberfeldy,  and  wrote  in  his  copy  of  the  Museum,  that  this  song  was 
composed  '  standing  under  the  falls  of  Aberfeldy,  at  or  near  Moness.'     It  is 
justly  esteemed  one  of  the  most  popular  songs  in  Scotland.     The  original  was 
known  as  The  Birks  of  Abergeldie,  two  stanzas  of  which  are  inserted  in  the 
Museum,  immediately  following  Burns's  verses.     The  old  fragment  was  copied 
from  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1/76,  ii.  221,  and  begins  thus: — 
'  Bonny  lassie,  will  ye  go,  will  ye  go,  will  ye  go, 
Bonny  lassie,  will  ye  go  to  the  Birks  o'  Abergeldie? 
Ye  shall  get  a  gown  of  silk,  a  gown  of  silk,  a  gown  of  silk, 
Ye  shall  get  a  gown  of  silk,  and  coat  of  calimancoe.' 

In  his  Scottish  Ballads  and  Songs,  1859,  /9,  Maidment  reprinted  verses 
from  an  original  broadside  of  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  but  he 
considered  Herd's  fragment  older.  The  Maidment  ballad  is  written  throughout 
in  English. 

The  sustained  popularity  of  the  song  is  due  in  a  great  measure  to  its  melody. 
In  the  1690  edition  of  Play  ford's  Dancing  Master  the  tune  is  entitled  A  Scotch 
Ayre\  as  Abergeldie  it  is  in  Atkinsons  MS.,  1694;  in  Sinklers  MS.,  1710,  as 
Birks  of  Eberge Idie.  It  is  also  in  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700;  in  Bremner's 
Reels,  1/58,  jf ;  Stewart's  Keels,  1761,  j  ;  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
c.  1756,  viii.  16,  and  others.  Abergeldy,  near  Balmoral,  is  now  a  royal  demesne. 

No.  114.  As  I  gaed  down  the  water-side.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  264.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  with  the  opening  bars  of  the 
tune,  and  a  note  that  Clarke  has  it  (R.  B.)  '  This  beautiful  song  is  in  the  true 
old  Scotch  taste,  yet  I  do  not  know  that  ever  either  air  or  words  were  in  print 


390  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

before '  (Interleaved  Museum}.  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words' (Law's  MS.  List}. 
Neither  Cromek  nor  Scott-Douglas  correctly  stated  how  much  of  the  song 
Burns  wrote  and  amended.  The  last  two  stanzas  are  Burns's,  and  the  first  two 
are  made  out  of  the  original  first  stanza.  '  I  am  flattered  at  your  adopting 
Ca'  the  yowes,  as  it  was  owing  to  me  that  ever  it  saw  the  light.  About  seven 
years  ago,  I  was  well  acquainted  with  a  worthy  little  fellow  of  a  clergyman, 
a  Mr.  Clunyie,  who  sang  it  charmingly ;  and,  at  my  request,  Mr.  Clarke  took 
it  down  from  his  singing.  When  1  gave  it  to  Johnson,  I  added  some  stanzas 
to  the  song,  and  mended  others,  but  still  it  will  not  do  for  you'  (Letter  to 
Thomson,  September,  1794).  See  Song  No.  218.  Tibby  Pagan,  an  eccentric 
woman,  who  sold  whisky  without  a  licence,  and  dispensed  a  fund  of  bold 
humour  to  her  customers,  is  said  to  have  been  the  author,  but  there  is  no 
authority  for  the  statement.  A  collection  of  her  songs  and  poems  was  printed 
in  Glasgow  about  1805,  but  ^a"  the  yowes  is  not  in  the  volume.  Burns 
deserves  to  be  remembered  with  gratitude,  if  for  nothing  else,  as  being  the 
discoverer  of  the  melodic  gem  of  this  pastoral.  There  is  no  second  part,  and 
the  verse  and  chorus  are  sung  to  the  same  music. 

No.  115.  On  a  bank  of  flowers  in  a  summer  day.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No. 22}.  'Mr.  Burns's  words.'  (Law's  MS.  List ;  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1799,  88}.  The  original  verses  are  English,  copied  into  the  last 
volume  of  The  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  c.  1740.  The  author,  Mr.  Theobald, 
was  a  large  contributor  to  the  song-books  of  his  day.  For  the  sake  of  the 
melody  popular  in  Scotland,  Burns  recast  the  original  licentious  verses,  making 
a  new  song  of  them. 

The  tune  The  bashful  lover  is  English,  the  composition  of  John  Galliard, 
by  birth  a  German,  who  came  to  London  in  early  life  and  remained  there.  He 
was  the  composer  of  numerous  good  airs.  The  music  is  in  Playford's  Dancing 
Master,  1728,  entitled  The  bashful  swain  ;  with  Theobald's  verses  in  Watts's 
Musical  Miscellany,  1729,  i.jo;  in  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  8j; 
and  in  Calliope,  1788,  254. 

No.  116.  "When  rosy  May  comes  in  wi*  flowers.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No  220,  signed  '  Z,'  entitled  The  Gardener  wi"  his  paidle ; 
Law's  MS.  List:  'Mr.  B.'s  old  words;'  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  ^9- 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  '  This  air  is  the  Gardener  s  March.  The 
title  of  the  song  only  is  old  ;  the  rest  is  mine '  (Interleaved  Museum}.  The  old 
song  referred  to  is  not  known.  To  accommodate  George  Thomson,  who  wished 
a  copy  for  his  collection,  Burns  altered  the  fourth  line  in  .each  stanza,  and  added 
a  chorus  to  fit  the  verses  for  the  tune  Dainty  Davie  (see  Song  No.  /#). 

The  tune  The  Gardener's  March,  appropriated  by  the  guild  of  gardeners, 
is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  777,  as  stated  by  Burns  on  his  MS.  I  doubt 
whether  it  is  an  .authentic  Scottish  melody,  and  whether  it  is  much  older  than 
its  appearance  in  Aird's  volume. 

No.  117.  If  thou  should  ask  my  love.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  229,  entitled  Jamie,  come  try  me.  In  Law's  MS.  List :  '  Mr.  Burns's  old 
words.'  Written  from  a  single  line  or  title  of  an  old  song  to  resuscitate  James 
Oswald's  melody,  printed  in  Curiotis  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  ii.  26 ;  and  the 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745,  ii.^.  The  tune  is  interesting,  but  its 
compass  is  too  great  for  ordinary  voices. 

No.  118.  Hark  the  Mavis*  e'ening  sang.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  160. 
Scotish  Airs,  1805,  I^-  The  MS.  is  at  Brechin  Castle.  This  second  version 
of  Co1  the  ewes  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  September,  1 794,  with  a  note :  *  In 
a  solitary 'stroll  which  I  took  to-day,  I  tried  my  hand  on  a  few  pastoral  lines, 
following  up  the  idea  of  the  chorus,  which  I  would  preserve.'  Burns  was 
aware  of  its  inferiority  to  the  original. 

Thomson  divorced  it  from  its  proper  melody,  and  set  it  to  The  maid  that 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL  391 

tends  the  goats.     For  the  tune,  see  No.  114.    The  Clouden  is  a  small  tributary 
of  the  Nith  near  Dumfries. 

No.  119.  "When  the  drums  do  beat.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  233,  entitled  The  Captain's  lady.  I  have  definitely  identified  Burns  with 
this  song  in  the  musical  MS.  made  up  for  the  engraver  of  the  Museum.  The 
poet  entitled  the  tune  Mount  my  baggage,  then  drew  his  pen  through  the  words 
and  wrote  above  them  The  Captains  lady,  as  printed  in  the  Museum  '.Cray's 
Museum  Lists).  In  Law's  MS.  List,  Burns  wrote:  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words.' 
The  following  stanza  is  from  an  English  song  of  the  seventeenth  century : — 
'  I  will  away,  and  I  will  not  tarry, 

I  will  away  and  be  a  Captain's  lady. 
A  Captain's  lady  is  a  dame  of  honour — 
She  has  her  maid  ay  to  wait  upon  her, 
To  wait  upon  her,  and  get  all  things  ready, 
I  will  away  and  be  a  Captain's  lady.' 

Burns's  first  title  is  that  of  a  ballad  in  the  Dalmeny  Collection,  quoted  in  the 
Centenary  Burns  as  The  Liggar  lady,  or  the  ladie's  love  to  a  soldier,  to  the  tune 
of  Mount  the  baggage.  This  most  prosaic  production  is  apparently  the  original 
of  Burns's  verses. 

The  tune  with  the  title  Mount  my  baggage  is  in  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1755,  vii.  26,  and  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1768,  109  ;  as  the  Cadie  laddie,  it  is  in 
Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances  ;   and  as  Mount  your  baggage  in  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  74.     A  song  Ramillies,  attributed  to  one  of  the  Sempills  of 
Beltrees,  does  not  fit  the  tune.     The  first  stanza  and  chorus  reads  thus :  — 
'  My  daddie  marrie't  me  too  young 
To  an  auld  man  baith  deaf  and  dumb ; 
He  laid  beside  me  like  a  rung, 
He  wadna  turn  unto  his  lassie. 

Och  !  laddie  munt  and  go, 
Dear  sailor,  hoise  and  go ; 
Och  !  laddie,  munt  and  go, 

Go,  and  I'se  go  with  thee,  laddie.' 

(Sempill's  Poems,  1849,  xcv.) 

No.  120.  Young  Jockie  was  the  blythest  lad.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  287;  signed  '  Z  ; '  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808,  438.  Hitherto  this  song 
has  been  accepted  on  the  sole  authority  of  Stenhouse,  who  stated  that  the  whole 
of  it,  with  the  exception  of  three  or  four  lines,  was  written  by  Burns.  I  have 
before  me  now  the  MS.  music  of  the  tune,  and  the  words  which  Johnson 
proposed  to  insert  in  the  Museum,  entitled  The  devoted  maid,  by  Dr.  Blacklock, 
beginning  '  My  virgin  heart  when  Jockey  woo'd.'  r£vc&z,  Jockey  was  the  blythest 
lad  in  a'  our  town.  The  MS.  was  sent  to  Burns  for  his  approval.  He  returned 
it  with  a  note  in  the  margin,  in  his  own  handwriting,  '  Take  Mr.  Burns's  old 
words,'  so  accordingly  the  song  was  changed,  and  his  verses  with  the  title  were 
printed.  In  Law's  MS.  List  he  wrote  :  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words/  The  Jockies 
and  Jennys  of  the  English  parodies  of  Scots  Songs  are  as  common  as  black- 
berries in  autumn.  In  The  Goldfinch,  I771*  's  a  song  beginning  'Young 
Jockey  was  the  blithest  lad,'  but  it  has  little  resemblance  to  Burns's  song. 

The  tune  is  entitled  Jockie  the  blithest  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1 746,  36. 
It  has  the  gait  of  an  English  melody.  A  different  tune  with  the  title  Jockey 
was  the  blithest  lad  is  in  Atkinsorfs  MS.,  1694.  In  the  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  1755,  vii.  8,  there  is  a  corrupted  form  of  the  melody. 

No.  121.  Sweet  are  the  banks — the  banks  o*  Boon.  This  is  the  first 
of  three  versions  of  the  Banks  o"  Doon.  Originally  published  in  the  Edinburgh 
edition,  1877,  ii.  331.  There  is  not  much  verbal  difference  between  this  and  the 


392  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

next  version  sent  to  John  Ballantine.  The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter, 
dated  March'  u,  1791,  to  Alexander  Cunningham,  enclosing  a  copy  of  the 
song :  '  I  have  this  evening  sketched  out  a  song  which  I  had  a  great  mind  to 
send  you,  though  I  foresee  that  it  will  cost  you  another  groat  of  postage.  .  .  . 
My  song  is  intended  to  sing  to  a  strathspey,  or  reel,  of  which  I  am  very  fond, 
called  in  Gumming' s  Collection  of  Strathspeys  BallendallocKs  Keel,  and  in 
other  collections  that  I  have  met  with,  it  is  known  by  the  name  of  Cambdelmore. 
It  takes  three  stanzas  of  four  lines  each  to  go  through  the  whole  tune.  I  shall 
give  the  song  to  Johnson  for  the  fourth  volume  of  his  publication  of  Scots 
Songs  which  he  has  just  now  in  hand.'  This  quotation  disposes  of  the  theory 
of  Robert  Chambers  that  The  banks  o1  Doon  was  written  in  1787  for  Peggy 
Kennedy,  the  unfortunate  lady  referred  to  in  the  note  on  Song  No.  //. 

The  recovery  of  the  letter  to  Cunningham  reveals  the  fact  that  the  song  was 
written  for  a  particular  tune  practically  unknown.  Neither  the  words  nor  the 
music  is  in  Johnson's  Museum,  and  both  are  here  printed  together  for  the  first 
time.  It  is  entitled  Cambdelmore  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1761,  9.2;  and  in 
Stewart's  Reels,  1763,  jf,  as  Ballendalloch  ;  as  Ballendalloch's  Reel  in 
Cumming's  Strathspeys,  1780,  7;  and  Gordon  Castle  in  McGlashan's  Strath- 
spey Reels,  1780,  26. 

No.  122.  Ye  flowery  banks  o'  bonie  Doon.  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808,  ij. 
The  second  version  of  the  song,  which  was  enclosed  in  au  undated  letter 
addressed  to  John  Ballantine,  Ayr.  The  following  is  an  extract :  '  While  here 
I  sit,  sad  and  solitary,  by  the  side  of  a  fire  in  a  little  country  inn,  and  drying 
my  wet  clothes,  in  pops  a  poor  fellow  of  a  sodger,  and  tells  me  he  is  going  to 
Ayr.  By  Heavens !  say  I  to  myself,  with  a  tide  of  good  spirits  which  the 
magic  of  that  sound,  Auld  toon  o'  Ayr,  conjured  up,  I  will  send  my  last  song 
to  Mr.  Ballantine.'  The  poet  at  this  time  was  most  likely  on  one  of  his  excise 
expeditions.  Ye  jloivery  banks  o"  bonie  Doon  is  a  distinct  improvement  on  the 
first  version,  and  Cromek's  opinion  of  it  in  comparison  with  the  third  or 
popular  set  has  been  endorsed  by  all  subsequent  commentators.  The  redundant 
feet  in  the  second  and  fourth  lines  of  the  popular  stanza  can  easily  be  spared, 
and  as  a  poem  this  short  metre  version  is  superb  compared  with  it,  although  it 
is  now  hopeless  to  expect  that  the  popular  version  will  be  displaced. 

No.  123.  Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonie  Doon.  In  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  374,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  The  banks  o>  Doon.  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1798,4;.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  'Mr.  B.'s  old  words' 
(Law's  MS.  List}.  Two  bathetic  stanzas,  written  by  a  music  publisher,  were 
added  to  the  song,  and  printed  in  the  Pocket  Encyclopedia,  Glasgow,  1816,  i.  29. 
Why  this,  the  popular  version,  was  written  in  a  different  measure  from  the 
other  two,  has  never  been  accurately  ascertained.  It  is  probably  true  that 
Burns  altered  the  song  against  his  will,  but  nowhere  does  he  say  so.  It  is 
quite  certain  that  he  approved  the  air  now  so  popular  (although  it  may  be 
remarked  in  passing  that  the  pen  is  drawn  through  the  title  Caledonian  Hunt's 
Delight  in  the  MS.  in  the  British  Museum),  for  in  a  letter  to  George  Thomson 
in  November,  1794,  he  recommended  it  for  insertion  in  Scotish  Airs  at  the  cost 
of  excluding  another  song  to  make  room  for  it.  He  relates  the  story  of  the 
tune  being  composed  '  a  good  many  years  ago '  by  an  amateur  playing  on 
the  black  keys  of  the  harpsichord.  A  copy  was  given  to  Gow,  who  entitled  it 
The  Caledonian  Hun?  s  delight,  and  printed  it  for  the  first  time  in  his  second 
collection  of  Strathspey  Reeti,  1788,  that  is  six  years  before  Bums  related  its 
history  to  Thomson,  and  four  years  before  it  was  printed  with  the  verses  in  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum.  In  1789,  Burns  wrote  There  was  on  a  Time  (Song 
No.  2j8)  for  the  same  tune. 

The  origin  of  the  air  has  been  called  in  question,  and  its  nationality  disputed. 
The  late  William  Chappell  asserted  that  the  amateur  effected  nothing  more 
than  the  alteration  of  a  note  here  and  there  of  a  melody  which  previously 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  I     GENERAL 


393 


existed.  On  the  difficulty  of  ascertaining  the  birth  of  tunes,  Burns  has  a  note 
in  the  same  letter  to  Thomson  as  previously  quoted  :  '  Now  to  shew  you  how 
difficult  it  is  to  trace  the  origin  of  our  airs,  I  have  heard  it  repeatedly  asserted 
that  this  was  an  Irish  air ;  nay,  I  met  with  an  Irish  gentleman,  who  affirmed 
he  had  heard  it  in  Ireland  among  the  old  women  ;  while  on  the  other  hand, 
a  lady  of  fashion,  no  less  than  a  countess,  informed  me  that  the  first  person 
who  introduced  the  air  into  this  country  was  a  baronet's  Lidy  of  her  acquaintance, 
who  took  down  the  notes  from  an  itinerant  piper  in  the  Isle  of  Man.  How 
difficult  then  to  ascertain  the  truth,  respecting  our  poesy  and  music  !  I  myself 
have  lately  seen  a  couple  of  ballads  sung  through  the  streets  of  Dumfries, 
with  my  name  at  the  head  of  them  as  the  author,  though  it  was  the  first  time 
I  had  ever  seen  them.' 

The  editor  of  Graham's  Songs  of  Scotland  states  that  he  saw  a  street  song, 
entitled  List,  list,  to  my  story,  with  the  water-mark  of  the  year  1801  on  the 
paper,  on  which  the  tune,  the  same  as  7^he  banks  o'  Doon,  was  stated  to  be  an 
Irish  air.  The  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time  of  William  Chappell  is 
a  monument  of  industry  and  research.  He  had  as  keen  an  eye  for  a  date, 
as  a  cross-examining  barrister,  and  although  he  often  complains  about  their 
absence  on  musical  works,  it  is  a  curious  fact,  that  his  Popular  Music  bears 
no  date  of  publication  either  on  the  title-page  or  elsewhere.  He  contested  the 
Scottish  origin  of  the  Banks  o1  Doon,  because  it  was  in  Dale's  Collection  of 
English  Songs.  In  this  case  his  claim  breaks  down,  because  this  collection 
was  issued  in  1794,  and  subsequent  to  the  same  publisher's  Scotch  Songs  of 
that  year.  Without  any  evidence  he  accuses  Stephen  Clarke  of  inventing  the 
story  related  by  Burns,  and  of  making  the  tune  himself  from  Dale's  English 
tune,  Lost,  lost  is  my  quiet,  without  the  intervention  of  any  amateur  to  fit  it 
for  the  Scots  Musical  Museum.  As  previously  stated,  the  air  was  first  printed 
in  1788,  six  years  before  it  was  copied  into  the  Museum,  and  this  date  fits  the 
story  Burns  related  to  Thomson,  in  1 794,  of  the  air  having  been  made  '  a  good 
many  years  ago.'  Whether  it  be  a  Scots,  an  English,  or  an  Irish  air  need  not 
be  further  discussed  ;  it  has  been  preserved  for  more  than  a  century  entirely 
through  Burns's  song,  first  printed  with  the  music  in  Museum,  1792.  In  Aird's 
Airs,  1794,  iv.  No.  ij2,  Irish,  is  affixed  to  the  tune,  entitled  Caledonian  Hunt's 
Delight,  so  that  it  appears  there  was  a  popular  belief  that  the  melody  was 
Irish. 

No.  124.  O  stay,  sweet  warbling  woodlark,  stay.  This,  known  as 
Address  to  the  ^voodlark,  is  in  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  26.  'Written  for 
this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson  collection.  This 
and  twelve  other  songs  were  sent  to  Thomson  between  April  and  August,  1795. 
They  are  evidence  of  the  poet's  remarkable  mental  activity  although  in  bad 
health,  and  engaged  in  daily  hard  physical  work.  The  first  sketch  of  the  song 
was  copied  by  Scott-Douglas  from  a  pencil  MS.  in  the  poet's  handwriting.  It  is 
entitled  Song. —  Composed  on  hearing  a  bird  sing  while  musing  on  Chloris : — 

'  Sing  on,  sweet  songster  o'  the  brier, 
Nae  stealthy  traitor-foot  is  near, 
O  sooth  a  hapless  lover's  ear, 
And  dear  as  life  I'll  prize  thee. 

'  Again,  again  that  tender  part, 
That  I  may  learn  thy  melting  art, 
For  surely  that  would  touch  the  heart, 
O'  her  that  still  denies  me. 

'  O,  was  thy  mistress,  too,  unkind, 
And  heard  thee  as  the  careless  wind? 
For  nocht  but  Love  and  Sorrow  join'd 
Sic  notes  of  woe  could  wauken.' 


I 


394 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Bums  agreed  with  Thomson  that  the  rhythm  of  Loch  Eroch  side  suited  the 
song,  and  on  this  general  agreement  it  was  printed  with  that  tune  in  Scotish 
Airs.  But  the  proper  melody  is  Whare  shall  oiir  gudeman  lie  ?  or  Where  II 
borne  Annie  lie?  as  marked  on  the  copy  of  the  verses  sent  to  Thomson.  For 
tune,  see  No.  10. 

No.  125.  O,  saw  ye  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McN~ab  ?  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  336,  signed  'X,'  entitled  Eppie  McNab.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  An  old  song  rewritten  and  purified  for  insertion  in  the 
Museum.  '  The  old  song  with  this  title  has  more  wit  than  decency'  (Interleaved 
Museum}.  The  fragment  in  the  Herd  MS.  is  as  follows : — 

'O,  saw  ye  Eppie  McNab  the  day? 
O,  saw  ye  Eppie  McNab  the  day  ? 
She  's  down  in  the  yaird 
She  's  kissing  the  laird 
She  winna  cum  hame  the  day,  the  day. 

'O,  see  to  Eppie  McNab  as  she  goes, 
See  to  Eppie  McNab  as  she  goes, 

With  her  corked  heel  shoon 

And  her  cockets  aboon ; 
O,  see  to  Eppie  McNab  as  she  goes.' 

In  the  Merry  Muses  is  a,  '  revised '  song  for  the  tune,  in  which  occurs  : — 

'  Her  kittle  black  een  they  wad  thirl  ye  thro' ; 
Her  rosebud  lips  cry,  Kiss  me  just  now,'  &c. 

The  tune  is  in  Curious  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  46 ;  the  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  1754,  vi.  18;  Bremner's  Reels,  1768,  in ;  and  a  bad  copy  in  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  263.  From  its  construction  it  is  much  older  than  the  earliest 
date  named. 

No.  126.  By  love  and  by  beauty.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  281, 
entitled  Eppie  Adair.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum  among  the  Burns 
papers,  and  he  there  directs  that  the  chorus  should  be  sung  to  the  first  part 
of  the  tune,  and  the  verse  must  be  repeated  to  take  up  the  second  part. 

The  air  is  a  very  fine  specimen  of  Scottish  music  in  the  minor  mode ;  but 
has  probably  been  evolved  into  a  double  tune.  The  music  in  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  xi.  19,  is  entitled  My  Appie. 

No.  127.  O,  luve  will  venture  in.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  jjjt 
signed  '  B,'  entitled  The  posie.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  36,  '  By  Robert 
Burns.'  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  This  song  is  not  only  chaste  and 
beautiful,  but  is  set  to  one  of  the  best- constructed  and  most  artistic  melodies 
in  the  Scottish  collections  of  the  eighteenth  century,  yet  it  is  entirely  neglected, 
and  is  scarcely  known.  The  lines  were  suggested  to  Burns  on  hearing  his  wife 
sing  a  street  ballad  There  was  a  pretty  May,  which  Cromek  has  printed  in 
R cliques,  1808,  225,  but  neither  the  Note  nor  the  verses  are  in  the  Interleaved 
Museum.  The  substance  of  the  Note  is  in  an  undated  letter  to  Thomson 
about  October,  1794.  From  this  commonplace  thing  Burns  wrote  The  posie, 
which  mechanical  critics  say  offends  the  unity  of  time,  because  the  flowers  named 
in  the  song  do  not  bloom  in  the  same  season.  The  subject  is  a  very  old  one 
in  English  poesy.  Burns's  song  may  be  compared  with  A  nosegaie  ahuaies 
sweet,  of  fifteen  stanzas,  in  the  unique  volume,  '•A  Handefull  of  pleasant  Delites. 
At  London,  1584.'  The  last  two  stanzas  are: — 

'  Cowsloppes  is  for  Counsell,  for  secrets  vs  between, 
That  none  but  you  and  I  alone  should  know  the  thing  we  meane ; 
And  if  you  wil  thus  wisely  do  as  I  think  to  be  best, 
Then  have  you  surely  won  the  field,  and  set  my  heart  at  rest. 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL 


395 


'  I  pray  you  keep  this  Nosegay  wel,  and  set  by  it  some  store : 
And  thus  farewel,  the  Gods  thee  guide,  both  now  and  evermore. 
Not  as  the  common  sort  do  vse,  to  set  it  in  your  brest : 
That  when  the  smel  is  gone  away,  on  ground  he  takes  his  rest.' 

The  tune  is  an  adaptation  of  Roslin  Castle  (see  Song  No.  ,?-r?).  Whether 
The  Posie  or  Roslin  Castle  be  the  original  cannot  now  be  ascertained :  the 
former  is  the  simpler  of  the  two. 

No.  128.  Let  loove  sparkle  in  her  e'e.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  j8i,  entitled  Jocky  fou  and  Jenny  fain.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  Burns  added  four  lines  to  complete  a  stanza  to *  Jocky fou  and  Jenny 
fain,  taken  from  Ramsay's  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1725,  and  also  made  verbal 
alterations  in  the  rest.  He  wrote  on  the  MS.  for  the  Museum  :  '  These  are  the 
old  words,  and  most  excellent  words  they  are.  Set  the  music  to  them'  (R.  B.). 
The  first  four  lines,  not  written  by  Burns,  are  within  brackets.  The  tune  is  in 
Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730,  25. 

No.  129.  How  cruel  are  the  parents.     Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
//.     '  Written  for  this  work    by  Robert  Burns.'     Thomson   wanted  English 
verses  for  John  Anderson  my  jo,  and  he  got  them  on  May  9,  1795,  such  as 
they  are.     At   the  head  of  the  MS.  is  written,  '  Song  altered  from  an  old 
English  one,'  which  is  said  to  be  in  The  Hive,  1733,  but  it  is  not  in  the  earlier 
edition,  1725-7.     The  verses  are  in  Muse's  Delight,  1754,  293,  and  Burns  has 
adhered  to  the  sentiment  of  them.     In  Bickham's  Musical  Entertainer ;  1737, 
ii.  68,  the  daughters  take  the  business  into  their  own  hands,  as  follows  : — 
'  When  parents  obstinate  and  cruel  prove, 
And  force  us  to  a  man  we  cannot  love; 
'Tis  fit  we  disappoint  the  sordid  elves 
And  wisely  get  us  husbands  for  ourselves.' 

This  they  sing  to  the  music  of  Henry  Carey.  For  the  air  of  Burns's  verses, 
see  No.  212. 

No.  130.  The  smiling  Spring  comes  in  rejoicing.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  387,  signed  'B,'  entitled  Bonie  Bell.  A  MS.  of  this 
joyous  song,  by  an  amanuensis,  is  in  the  British  Museum  among  the  Burns 
papers.  Burns  does  not  refer  to  it  in  any  way,  and  the  only  confirmatory 
evidence,  which  is  quite  good,  is  the  initial  at  the  end  of  the  song  in  Johnson's 
Museum.  Stenhouse  says :  '  This  is  another  production  of  Burns,  who  also 
communicated  the  tune  to  which  the  words  are  set  in  the  Museum.'  {Illustra- 
tions',  p.  jfj.}  I  have  not  found  any  earlier  copy  of  the  tune. 

No.  131.  "Where  Cart  rins  rowin  to  the  sea.  Scots  Mtisical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  389,  signed  '  R,'  entitled  The  gallant  weaver.  'Mr.  B.'s  old 
words '(Law's  MS.  List}.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,^9.  The  MS.  is 
in  the  British  Museum.  The  Cart,  a  stream  of  moderate  preventions,  is  known 
chiefly  as  furnishing  a  river  to  the  ancient  burgh  of  Paisley  in  Renfrewshire. 
The  city  of  weavers  is  reported  to  have  given  birth  to  more  poets  than  any 
town  in  Scotland.  '  The  chorus  of  this  song  is  old,  the  rest  of  it  is  mine. 
Here,  once  for  all,  let  me  apologize  for  many  silly  compositions  of  mine  in  this 
work  \Scots  Musical  Museum^.  Many  beautiful  airs  wanted  words;  in  the 
hurry  of  other  avocations,  if  I  could  string  a  parcel  of  rhymes  together  any- 
thing near  tolerable,  I  was  fain  to  let  them  pass.  He  must  be  an  excellent 
poet  indeed,  whose  every  performance  is  excellent'  (Interleaved Museum}. 

The  tune  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  174,  entitled  Weaver's  March,  or 
7\venty- first  of  August.  It  has  not  the  character  of  a  Scottish  melody.  The 
New  Swedish  Dance,  in  the  Musical  Pocket- Book.  c.  1715,  resembles  the  tune. 
Thomson  printed  Burns's  song  in  his  musical  collection,  and  without  authority 
changed  the  '  weaver '  into  a  *  sailor,'  and  set  it  to  The  auld  wife  ayont 
the  fire.  Mr.  John  Glen  has  found  the  tune  in  the  Dancing  Master,  1728, 
entitled  Frisky  Jenny,  or  the  Tenth  of  June. 


396 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


No.  132.  I  do  confess  thou  art  sae  fair.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  321,  signed  '  Z.'  '  This  song  is  altered  from  a  poem  by  Sir  Robert  Ayton, 
private  secretary  to  Mary  and  Anne,  Queens  of  Scotland.  I  think  that  I  have 
improved  the  simplicity  of  the  sentiments,  by  giving  them  a  Scots  dress ' 
(Interleaved  Museum).  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Burns's  opinion  is 
not  shared  by  posterity,  which  thinks  that  the  original  verses  have  not  been 
improved.  The  original  in  four  stanzas  of  six  lines,  with  music  by  Henry 
Lawes,  is  in  Playford's  Select  Ayres,  1659.  The  words  alone  are  in  Watson's 
Scots  Poems,  1711,  91. 

The  tune  with  the  title  Come  ashore,  jolly  tar  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i. 
No.  790,  and  I  conjecture  that  the  music  in  the  Museum  was  copied  from  that 
work.  In  Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics,  1819,  i.  HI  is  a  song  The  Cuckoo,  applied  to 
the  Old  Pretender.  The  last  stanza  is  as  follows : — 

'  The  Cuckoo 's  a  bonny  bird,  but  far  frae  his  hame ; 
I  ken  him  by  the  feathers  that  grow  upon  his  kame ; 
And  round  that  double  kame  .yet  a  crown  I  hope  to  see, 
For  my  bonny  cuckoo,  he  is  dear  to  me.' 

The  tune  in  Rutherford's  Dances,  c.  1770,  is  entitled  The  Cuckoo's  Nest.  No 
one  has  yet  given  a  rational  or  satisfactory  reason  why  James  VIII  was  called 
the  Cuckoo.  Charles  Mackay  supposed  that  the  Pretender  was  expected  in 
spring  to  chase  away  the  winter  of  the  discontent  of  his  followers.  To  which 
I  may  be  permitted  to  add  that  when  he  did  come  he  was  not  much  appreciated, 
and,  like  the  cuckoo,  made  a  very  short  stay. 

Bunting  has  claimed  the  music  for  Ireland,  and  states  it  is  in  a  music- 
book  of  the  early  eighteenth  century.  The  tune  is  not  in  the  Scottish  style. 

No.  133.  Whare  live  ye,  my  bonie  lass  ?  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  361,  entitled  My  collier  laddie.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum, 
but  the  song  is  not  otherwise  referred  to  by  Burns  in  his  works.  According  to 
Stenhouse,  the  words  and  the  tune  were  transmitted  by  Burns  to  the  editor  of 
the  Museum,  where  both  were  printed  for  the  first  time.  There  is  no  earlier 
record  of  the  music.  A  song  in  the  Merry  Muses  is  marked  for  the  tune  of 
The  collier  laddie. 

No.  134.  In  simmer,  when  the  hay  was  mawn.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  366,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Country  Lassie.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  In  a  letter  to  George  Thomson,  October  19,  1794,  Burns 
admits  having  written  the  song.  Thomson  printed  it  without  authority  in 
Select  Melodies,  1822,  ii.  24,  to  the  tune  oljohn,  come  kiss  me  now. 

The  Scottish  tune,  The  country  lass  of  the  text,  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
1733,  No.  j8,  with  English  verses  written  by  Martin  Parker,  which  Allan 
Ramsay  copied,  with  variations,  into  the  Tea -Table  Miscellany.  The  English 
tune  of  the  same  title  is  that  to  which  Sally  in  our  Alley  is  now  sung,  en- 
titled Cold  and  raw  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  iv.  132.  A  third  tune  for  the  verses 
was  The  mother  beguiled  the  daughter.  Burns's  song  does  not  in  the  least 
resemble  the  English  version,  nor  does  the  tune  in  the  Orpheus,  or  in 
McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  96,  resemble  any  of  the  three  English  tunes 
named,  except  in  the  closing  bars  of  Sally  in  our  Alley. 

No.  135.  Now  rosy  May  comes  in  wi'  flowers.  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  69. 
'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Dainty  Davie!  Sent  to 
Thomson  in  August,  1793,  with  this  note:  '  I  have  been  looking  over  another 
and  a  better  song  of  mine  in  the  Museum  (see  Song  No  u6\  which  I  have 
altered  as  follows,  and  which  I  am  persuaded  will  please  you.  The  words 
Dainty  Davie  glide  so  sweetly  in  the  air  that,  to  a  Scots  ear,  any  song  to  it, 
without  Davie  being  the  hero,  would  have  a  lame  effect.  So  much  for  Davie. 
The  chorus  you  know  is  to  the  low  part  of  the  tune.'  Thomson  objected  to 
the  arrangement  of  the  tune,  but  Burns  adhered  to  his  opinion.  For  tune  see 
No.  308. 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL  397 

No.  136.  "When  o'er  the  hill  the  e'ening  star.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  8.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  195.  The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson 
collection  at  Brechin  Castle.  This  is  the  first  song  Burns  sent  to  George 
Thomson ;  with  '  eastern  star '  in  the  first  line.  In  reply,  Burns  wrote  to 
Thomson :  '  Let  me  tell  you  that  you  are  too  fastidious  in  your  ideas  of  songs 
and  ballads.  I  own  that  your  criticisms  are  just ;  the  songs  you  specify  in  your 
list  have,  all  but  one,  the  faults  you  remark  in  them — but  who  shall  mend  the 
matter? — who  shall  rise  up  and  say,  "Go  to,  I  will  make  a  better?"  For 
instance,  on  reading  over  The  lea-rig,  I  immediately  set  about  trying  my  hand 
on  it,  and  after  all,  I  could  make  nothing  more  of  it  than  the  following,  which 
Heaven  knows  is  poor  enough'  (Letter,  October  26, 1 792).  At  Thomson's  request 
Burns  rewrote  the  third  stanza  and  made  some  verbal  changes  in  the  rest.  An 
earlier  song,  My  ain  kind  dearie,  0,  in  the  Museum  suggested  the  verses.  In 
the  Interleaved  Museum  Burns  quotes  a  still  older  version : — 
'  I'll  rowe  thee  o'er  the  lea-rig, 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O ; 
I'll  rowe  thee  o'er  the  lea-rig, 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O. 
Altho'  the  night  were  ne'er  sae  wat, 

And  I  were  ne'er  sae  weary,  O ; 
I'll  rowe  thee  o'er  the  lea-rig, 
My  ain  kind  dearie,  O.' 

A  song  for  the  tune  is  in  the  Merry  Muses,  and  two  different  fragments  are 
in  the  Herd  MS.  The  tune  The  lea-rig  or  My  ain  kind  dearie,  0,  probably 
belongs  to  the  seventeenth  century.  It  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
c.  1756,  viii.  20;  in  Brernner's  Reels,  1760,  76 ;  Campbell's  Keels,  1778,  18; 
Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  ^;  and  the  Scots  Musical  Musetim,  1787,  No.  49. 
The  original  has  neither  a  fourth  nor  a  seventh  of  the  scale.  Burns  remonstrated 
about  corrupting  the  airs  in  a  letter  April,  1793,  to  Thomson,  who  often 
disregarded  the  injunction.  The  modern  form  of  the  melody  is  given  in 
the  text,  and  was  discovered  too  late  to  make  an  alteration. 

No.  137.  Braw,  braw  lads  on  Yarrow  braes.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1 793,  i.  ii.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Galla  Water! 
Framed  on  an  older  pastoral  song  of  the  Borderland  and  the  romantic  country 
of  Tweeddale.  Burns  wrote  his  Galla  Water  in  January,  1793,  and  sent  it  in 
a  letter  to  Thomson,  with  the  following  remarks  illustrating  his  interest 
in  music  :  '  I  should  also  like  to  know  what  other  songs  you  print  to  each 
tune  besides  the  verses  to  which  it  is  set.  In  short,  I  would  wish  to  give  you 
my  opinion  on  all  the  poetry  you  publish.'  A  fragment  of  an  earlier  anonymous 
song  is  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1 769, 312 : — 

'Braw,  braw  lads  of  Galla- water, 

0  braw  lads  of  Galla- water, 
I'll  kilt  my  coats  below  my  knee, 

And  follow  my  love  thro'  the  water. 

'Sae  fair  her  hair,  sae  brent  her  brow, 
Sae  bonny  blue  her  een,  my  dearie, 
Sae  white  her  teeth,  sae  sweet  her  mou', 

1  aften  kiss  her  till  I'm  wearie.    • 

'O'er  yon  bank,  and  o'er  yon  brae, 

O'er  yon  moss  amang  the  hether, 
I'll  kilt  my  coats  aboon  my  knee, 
And  follow  my  love  thro'  the  water.' 

The  tune  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1756,  viii.  28  ;  Stewart's 
Scots  Songs,  1772,  i,  adapted  to  a  song  of  different  metre;  Scots  Musical 


398 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Museum,  1788,  No.  i2j,  with  Herd's  verses;   in  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794, 

1.  84  ;  and  Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  iii.  163.    It  is  a  model  of  simplicity  and  dignity. 
In  many  modern  copies  it  is  corrupted  by  closing  on  the  key-note,  with  the 
introduction  of  the  leading  note. 

No.  138.  O  mirk,  mirk  is  this  midnight  hour.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1 798,  }8.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Lord  Gregory! 
Among  the  Dalhousie  MS.  in  Brechin  Castle.  The  tragic  ballad  of  Lord 
Gregory,  containing  about  sixty  stanzas,  better  known  as  Fair  Annie  of 
Lochryan,  is  the  foundation  of  Burns's  verses.  The  earliest  printed  fragment 
is  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  i.  149,  entitled  The  bonny  lass  o'  Lochryan. 
Two  double  stanzas,  with  the  tune,  were  engraved  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1787,  No.  /.  This  was  one  of  the  few  historical  ballads  which  made  an 
impression  on  Burns.  Thomson  had  informed  him  that  Dr.  Wolcot  had 
written  a  song  on  the  subject,  and  he  replied  on  January  26,  1793,  by  enclosing 
a  copy  of  the  verses  in  the  text.  A  few  weeks  before  his  death,  Bums  touched 
up  the  song,  and  sent  a  copy  to  his  friend  Alex.  Cunningham. 

The  tune  is  not  in  print  before  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No./. 
According  to  Stenhouse,  it  is  an  old  Gallwegian  melody.  The  music  is  also 
in  Urbani's  Scots  Songs,  1792,  /  ;  and  Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1/94,  iii.  119. 

No.  139.  There 's  auld  Bob  Morris  that  wons  in  yon  glen.  In. 
Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1793,  17.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.' 
The  original  vigorous  song  of  the  seventeenth  century  describes  an  old  man  in 
a  dialogue  between  a  girl  and  her  mother,  who  recommends  Rob  as  a  husband. 
Two  stanzas  of  the  rough-cast  ditty  may  be  quoted  : — 

Daughter.  *  Auld  Rob  Morris,  I  ken  him  fou  weel, 
His  back  sticks  out  like  ony  peet  creel; 
He's  out-shin'd,  in-knee'd,  and  ringle-ey'd,  too; 
Auld  Rob  Morris  is  the  man  I'll  ne'er  loo. 

Mother. '  Tho'  auld  Rob  Morris  be  an  elderly  man, 
Yet  his  auld  brass  will  buy  a  new  pan; 
Then,  dochter,  ye  should  na  be  sae  ill  to  shoo, 
For  auld  Rob  Morris  is  the  man  ye  maun  loo.' 

Burns's  song  is  on  the  same  subject)  but  treated  differently.  He  informed 
Thomson,  on  November  14, 1792  :  '  I  have  partly  taken  your  idea  of  Auld  Rob 
Morris,  and  am  going  on  with  the  song  on  a  new  plan,  which  promises  pretty 
well.'  On  December  4  the  song  was  completed.  The  old  words  are  in  the 
Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724,  and  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  10. 

The  tune  is  in  Blackie's  MS.,  1692,  under  the  title  Jock  the  laird's  brither. 
The  old  song  and  tune  are  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  jo ;  in  Watts's 
Musical  Miscellany ',  1730,  iii.  774;  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  i.  176,  and 
the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  192.  The  music  alone  is  in  Craig's  Scots 
Tunes,  1730,  45 ;  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1754,  vi.  9;  McGibbon's 
Scots  Tunes,  1755,  10,  and  elsewhere.  The  compass  of  the  tune  is  rather 
extended  for  the  present  generation. 

No.  140.  Here  awa,  there  awa,  wandering  Willie.     Scotish  Airs,  1793, 

2.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'     Among  the  Thomson  MS.  in 
Brechin  Castle.     The  original  song  of  the  name  was  printed  in  Herd's  Scots 
Songs,  1769,  291 ;   and  with  the   tune  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787, 
No.  jy.     The  first  stanza  in  Herd  is : — 

'  Here  awa,  there  awa,  wandering  Willie, 

Here  awa,  there  awa,  here  awa  hame ; 
Lang  have  I  sought  thee,  dear  have  I  bought  thee, 
Now  I  have  gotten  my  Willie  again.' 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :    GENERAL 


399 


In  Gray's  MS.  Lists,  Burns  quotes  the  following  stanza,  which  he  states 
must  be  added ,  and  says  it  is  '  the  best  in  the  song.'  The  stanza  has  never 
been  printed  until  now. 

'  Gin  ye  meet  my  love,  kiss  her  and  clap  her, 

And  gin  ye  meet  my  love,  dinna  think  shame; 
Gin  ye  meet  my  love,  kiss  her  and  clap  her, 
And  shew  her  the  way  to  had  awa  hame.' 

Burns's  song,  which  he  sent  to  Thomson  in  March,  17/83,  is  entirely  different, 
except  the  title.  A  committee  of  taste  suggested  some  alterations,  which  Burns 
partly  adopted.  The  verses  in  the  text  are  the  final  result  in  April. 

The  tune  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1736,  viii.  /,  is  entitled 
Here  awa',  Willie  ;  and  as  Here  awa,  there  awa  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes, 
1768,  iv.  108 ;  Bremner's  Second  Series  Scots  Songs,  1757,  n\  Perth  Musical 
Miscellany,  1786,  77;  Calliope,  1788,  i}6;  and  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs, 
1794,  i.  86. 

No.  141.  O,  open  the  door  some  pity  to  shew.    Scotish  Airs,  1 793,  i.  21. 
'As  altered  by  Robert  Burns.'     Sent  to  Thomson  in  March,  1793,  with  the 
remark,  <  I  do  not  know  whether  this  song  be  really  mended.'     The  original 
song  has  hitherto  eluded  research,  and  has  given  rise  to  some  curiosity.     The 
verses  and  air  of  the  original  are  in  Corri's  Scots  Songs,  1783,  ii.  jo;  in  the 
Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  ioi\  and  in  Calliope,  1788,2;.   The  following 
are  the  pathetic  verses  from  Corri,  marked  for  an  Irish  Air  : — 
'  It 's  open  the  door  some  pity  to  shew, 
It 's  open  the  door  to  me,  oh  ! 
Tho'  you  have  been  false,  I'll  always  prove  true, 
So  open  the  door  to  me,  oh ! 
'  Cold  is  the  blast  upon  my  pale  cheek, 
But  colder  your  love  unto  me,  oh! 

Tho'  you  have,  &c. 

'She's  open'd  the  door,  she's  open'd  it  wide, 
She  sees  his  pale  corpse  on  the  ground,  oh! 

Tho'  you  have,  &c. 

'My  true  love,  she  cry'd,  then  fell  down  by  his  side, 
Never,  never  to  shut  again,  oh! 

Tho'  you  have,'  &c. 

It  is  reminiscent  of  the  old  ballad  of  Lord  Gregory,  only  that  it  is  he  who 
dies  claiming  admission,  and  not  she.  Burns  has  compressed  the  last  two 
stanzas  into  one,  using  the  refrain  only  in  his  first  stanza,  and  making  verbal 
alterations,  sometimes  not  for  the  better.  His  third  stanza  is  original,  and  with 
unerring  instinct  Carlyle  detected  Burns's  hand  in  : — 

'The  wan  moon  sets  behind  the  white  wave,  • 

And  time  is  setting  with  me,  O,'  &c. 

Thomson  made  material  alterations  in  the  air.  In  Ireland  it  is  known  as 
Open  the  door  softly.  It  is  in  Bunting's  Irish  Melodies,  1796  ;  and  Edward 
Nagle,  who  lived  about  1760,  wrote  verses  for  it,  beginning,  'As  I  wandered 
abroad  in  the  purple  of  dawn.'  Also,  Tom  Moore's  fine  song,  '  She  is  far  from 
the  land  where  her  young  hero  sleeps,'Vas  written  for  Sarah  Curran,  the  lover 
of  Robert  Emmet,  the  young  Irish  rebel  who  was  executed.  A  corrupted 
setting  of  the  air  is  No.  584  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803. 

No.  142.  Lang  hae  we  parted  been.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  218.  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words '  (Law's  MS.  List}.  Doubtless  there  was  an 
old  song,  but  it  is  uncertain  how  much  of  the  two  stanzas  were  written  by 
Burns.  He  stated  to  Thomson  that  he  did  not  know  the  tune  Laddie  lie  near 
me  well  enough  to  write  for  it.  The  note  by  Burns  in  the  Interleaved 


400  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Museum,  that  Laddie  lie  near  me  is  by  Dr.  Blacklock,  refers  to  the  first  song 
for  the  tune  in  the  Afuseum,  beginning,  '  Hark,  the  loud  trumpet.'  Lady  lie 
near  me,  in  Play  ford's  Dancing  Master,  1650,  is  in  the  same  measure,  but 
there  is  no  resemblance  to  Oswald's  tune  except  in  the  rhythm.  This  English 
tune  served  many  songs,  and  was  popular  about  the  period  of  the  Restoration. 
The  original  seems  to  be  a  black-letter  ballad,  entitled,  '  The  longing 
Shepherdess,  or  Lady  lie  near  me,  printed  by  W.  Thackery  at  the  Angel  in 
Duck  Lane.1  Still  less  resemblance  is  there  to  an  English  \.\M\Z,  Jenny ,  come 
tye  my  cravat,  in  Apollo's  Banquet,  1687.  Wherever  the  original  verses  are 
to  be  discovered,  upon  which  Burns  founded  his  song,  they  are  not  in  either 
of  the  English  songs.  See  No.  101. 

No.  143.  By  Allan  stream  I  chanc'd  to  rove.  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  79. 
'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Allan  Water!  One  of  the 
Thomson  MS.  How  this  pastoral  was  written  in  (?  August,  1793)  is  described 
as  follows :  '  I  walked  out  yesterday  evening  with  a  volume  of  the  Museum 
in  my  hand,  when  turning  up  Allan  Water,  "  What  numbers  shall  the  muse 
repeat,"  it  appeared  to  me  rather  unworthy  of  so  fine  an  air,  and  recollecting 
that  it  is  in  your  list,  I  sat  and  raved  under  the  shade  of  an  old  thorn,  till 
I  wrote  one  to  suit  the  measure.  I  may  be  wrong,  but  I  think  it  is  not  in  my  worst 
style.  You  must  know  that  in  Ramsay's  Tea-  Table  Miscellany,  where  the  modern 
song  first  appeared,  the  ancient  name  of  the  tune,  Allan  says,  is  Allan  Water, 
or,  My  love  Annie 's  very  bonie.  This  last  has  certainly  been  a  line  of  the 
original  song ;  so  I  took  up  the  idea,  and,  as  you  see,  have  introduced  the  line 
in  its  place,  which  I  presume  it  formerly  occupied  ;  though  I  give  you 
a  choosing  line  if  it  should  not  hit  the  cut  of  your  fancy.' 

The  music  of  Allan  Water  is  in  Blaikie's  MS.,  1692  ;  Atkinson  s  MS.,  1694  ; 
Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700;  Sinklers  MS.,  1710;  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, 1752,  iv.  2j;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  54  ;  and  with  verses  in 
Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  28;  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  43,  and 
Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1794,  ii.  7.2.  'This  Allan  Water,  which  the  composer 
of  the  music  has  honoured  with  the  name  of  the  air,  I  have  been  told,  is 
Allan  Water,  in  Strathallan'  {Interleaved  Museum}. 

No.  144.  I  fee'd  a  man  at  Martinmas.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  394,  entitled  O  can  ye  labour  lea.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum. 
An  amended  version  of  an  equivocal  rustic  song  in  the  Merry  Muses,  which 
differs  slightly  from  that  here  printed.  Cromek,  in  Select  Scotish  Songs,  1810, 
ii.  40,  remarks :  '  This  song  has  long  been  known  among  the  inhabitants  of 
Nithsdale  and  Galloway,  where  it  is  a  great  favourite.' 

This  is  the  tune  which  George  Thomson  copied  from  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  and  printed  for  the  first  time  in  1799  as  tue  melody  of  Burns's  Auld 
langsyne.  See  Song  No.  234.  ju^L  i  $T, 

ffo.  145.  As  down  the  burn  they  took  their  way.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  izj.  Written  at  the  request  of  Thomson,  to  replace  a  stanza  in  a  song  by 
William  Crawford,  beginning,  '  WThen  trees  did  bud,'  originally  printed  in  the 
Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724.  Burns  at  first  declined  to  touch  the  song,  but 
Thomson  prevailed,  with  the  unsuccessful  result  in  the  text.  In  Select  Melodies, 
1822,  in.  n,  Thomson  replaced  Burns's  stanza  by  some  vapid  lines  of  his  own ; 
as  he  said  Burns  '  did  not  bring  the  son*g  to  the  desirable  conclusion.' 

The  tune,  with  Crawford's  verses,  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  jo ; 
in  Bremner's  Scots  Songs,  1757,  27;  the  Perth  Mtisical  Miscellany,  1786,  i,  and 
the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  74.  The  tune  alone  is  in  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  18,  and  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  33. 
According  to  a  tradition  related  by  Riddell  in  the  Interleaved  Museum ,  David 
Maigh,  a  keeper  of  the  hounds  of  the  Laird  of  Riddell  in  Tweeddale,  was 
the  composer.  Tradition  here  is  probably  wrong. 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  I     GENERAL 


401 


No.  146.  O,  were  my  love  yon  lilac  fair.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  7<5. 
Scotish  Airs,  1805,  154.  The  MS.  is  at  Brechin  Castle.  Only  the  first  eight 
lines  are  the  work  of  Burns.  Enclosing  the  poem  in  a  letter  of  June  25,  1793, 
Burns  writes  thus :  '  The  thought  is  inexpressibly  beautiful,  and  quite,  so  far  as 
I  know,  original.  It  is  too  short  for  a  song,  else  I  would  forswear  you 
altogether,  except  you  give  it  a  place.  I  have  often  tried  to  eke  a  stanza  to  it, 
but  in  vain.  After  balancing  myself  for  a  musing  for  five  minutes  on  the 
hind-legs  of  my  elbow-chair,  I  produced  the  following.  [That  is,  the  first  eight 
lines  in  the  text.]  The  verses  are  far  inferior  to  the  foregoing  [The  fragment — 
the  last  eight  lines],  I  frankly  confess;  but,  if  worthy  of  insertion  at  all,  they 
might  be  first  in  place,  as  every  poet,  who  knows  anything  of  his  trade,  will 
husband  his  best  thoughts  for  a  concluding  stroke.'  This  little  lyric  was 
dreadfully  mutilated  by  the  editor.  Thomson  suggested  Hughie  Graham  as 
the  tune,  and  while  Burns  agreed  that  the  measure  would  suit,  he  was  doubtful 
whether  it  would  properly  express  the  verses.  The  poet  was  evidently  not 
familiar  with  the  proper  tune,  and  modelled  his  stanza  from  the  fragment 
which  he  got  from  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  4. 

Thomson's  imprint  was  a  curious  piece  of  patchwork ;  at  least  five  authors 
were  represented  in  the  poetry  and  music.  In  his  Select  Melodies,  1825,  vi.j2, 
the  poetry  is  in  three  stanzas  :  the  first  by  Burns  as  in  the  text,  the  second  by 
a  Mr.  Richardson,  and  the  third  is  the  anonymous  original.  As  to  the  melody 
— an  imitation  of  that  in  the  text — the  first  part  is  the  composition  of  a  lady 
correspondent,  the  second  part  is  the  work  of  the  editor. 

Another  old  song  of  three  stanzas  on  the  threadbare  theme  is  in  the 
Herd  MS.,  and  the  middle  one  runs  as  follows  : — 

'  O,  if  my  love  was  a  bonny  red  rose, 

And  growing  upon  some  barren  wa', 
And  I  myself  a  drap  of  dew, 

Down  in  that  red  rose  I  would  fa'. 

The  song  has  rarely  been  printed  with  its  proper  melody.  In  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  594,  it  is  set  to  Lord  Balgonie's  favourite,  now 
better  known  as  Gloomy  winter's  noo  awa,  probably  because  the  proper  tune 
had  been  appropriated  to  another  song  in  the  volume,  beginning, '  Gently  blaw, 
ye  western  breezes.' 

A  bad  setting  of  the  proper  tune,  Gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose,  is  in 
Macfarlan  MS.,  1740,  entitled  Under  her  apron  ;  and  in  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1803,  No.  562. 

No.  147.  Simmer's  a  pleasant  time.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  2ij.  In  Law's  MS.,  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words.'  A  fragment  from  which 
Burns  completed  this  song  is  in  the  Herd  MS. : — 

'  O  wat,  wat  and  weary, 
Sleep  I  can  get  nane 
For  thinking  on  my  deary. 

A'  the  night  I  wak, 
A'  the  night  I  weary, 

Sleep  I  can  get  nane 
For  thinking  on  my  deary.' 

The  origin  of  this  peculiar  lyric  has  exercised  the  pens  of  numerous  critics. 
In  the  same  year  as  it  was  published  in  the  Museum,  a  version  appeared  in 
Napier's  Scots  Songs,  i.  61,  with  the  best  form  of  the  music  as  in  our  text, 
which  was  communicated  from, the  MS.  of  Robert  Riddell,  the  friend  of  Burns. 
A  reprint  of  Napier's  music  was  published  in  the  Museum  of  1792,  No.  382. 
A  sheet-song,  entitled  Jess  Macfarlan,  with  music,  was  issued  in  1793,  which 
Kirkpatrick  Sharpe  said  applied  to  a  nondescript  beauty  in  Edinburgh  about 
1740. 

Dd 


402  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

The  melody  is  remarkable  for  its  brevity  and  simplicity.  Tytler,  Ritson, 
and  other  antiquarians  considered  it  much  earlier  than  its  recorded  first 
appearance. 

Ritson  stated  that  the  fragment  of  eight  lines  printed  in  his  Scotish  Songs, 
1794,  i.  47  (with  music  as  in  our  text),  was  dictated  to  him  many  years  ago  by 
a  young  gentleman,  who  had  it  from  his  grandfather.  Thomson  spoiled  the 
character  of  the  music  with  a  modern  dress  in  Select  Melodies,  1822,  iii.  79. 
To  the  Song,  No.  9.2,  sup. '  Can  I  cease  to  care,'  he  added  a  line  at  the  end  of  each 
verse  in  order  to  fit  the  rhythm  of  the  music,  which  he  altered  to  close  the  air 
on  the  tonic.  Those  editorial '  improvements'  were  doubtless  made  to  elaborate 
the  music.  The  setting  of  the  chorus  of  the  air  in  the  text  from  Napier's  Songs 
differs  considerably  from  that  of  our  No.  9.2,  which  I  consider  is  nearer  the 
original  air. 

No.  148.  Go,  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o*  wine.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  2}i,  entitled  My  Bonie  Mary,  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  189,  with 
a  wrong  tune.  The  MS.  of  these  brilliant  verses  is  in  the  British  Museum. 
Sent  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  in  a  letter,  dated  December  17,  1788:  'Now  I  am  on 
my  hobby-horse,  I  cannot  help  inserting  two  other  old  stanzas,  which  please 
me  mightily : '  then  follows  a  copy  of  My  bonie  Mary.  Subsequently  he 
writes  :  '  This  air  is  Oswald's ;  the  first  stanza  of  the  song  is  old,  the  rest  mine ' 
(Interleaved  Museum}.  His  object  in  concealing  himself  as  the  author  is  not  very 
obvious,  but  probably  it  was  to  record  his  opinion  of  the  verses.  The 
following  fragment  is  printed  on  the  frontispiece  of  the  second  volume  of 
Morison's  Scotish  Ballads,  1790,  evidently  a  part  of  some  undiscovered  song: — 

'  The  loudest  of  thunder  o'er  louder  waves  roar 
That's  naething  like  leaving  my  love  on  the  shore.' 

An  engraving  represents  the  parting  of  two  lovers,  and  a  boat  on  the  beach 
close  by. 

Peter  Buchan,  the  editor  of  Ancient  Ballads,  1828,  and  other  collections, 
professed  to  have  recovered  the  first  four  lines  of  this  song  written,  as  he  said 
in  1636,  by  Alexander  Lesley,  grandfather  of  the  celebrated  Archbishop  Sharp. 
The  Rev.  Alexander  Dyce,  the  Shakespearian  editor,  believed  Buchan  to  be 
absolutely  untrustworthy.  His  opinion  would  be  spoiled  by  any  paraphrase, 
so  here  are  his  words  :  '  This  Buchan,  whom  I  once  endeavoured  to  assist  in 
his  poverty,  by  procuring  purchasers  of  his  books,  was  a  most  daring  forger ; 
scarcely  anything  that  he  has  published  can  be  trusted  to  as  genuine.'  Dean 
Christie,  in  his  Traditional  Ballad  Airs,  1876,  gets  Buchan  into  a  tight  place 
over  a  statement  that  Hugh  Allan,  the  author  of  The  pipers  o'  Buchan,  could 
not  write  a  simple  letter.  Christie  says  that  Allan,  on  the  contrary,  was  a  good 
mathematician  and  theologian,  that  he  taught  his  father  mathematics,  which 
first  induced  him  to  study  the  science.  (  Traditional  Ballad  Airs,  1876,  i.  38.) 

The  tune,  by  James  Oswald,  is  in  Universal  Harmony,  1745,  108,  entitled 
The  stolen  Kiss;  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  23,  7^he  secret 
Kiss.  Burns  was  not  quite  satisfied  with  his  choice  of  a  melody,  for  in 
September,  1793,  he  suggested  to  George  Thomson  that  as  it  precisely 
suited  the  measure  of  the  air,  Woes  my  heart  that  we  should  sunder,  he  might 
set  it  to  this.  Thomson  did  not  act  on  the  advice,  but  printed  it  to  The  old 
highland  laddie,  which  subsequent  compilers  have  adopted.  Burns's  alternative 
melody,  Waes  my  heart  that  we  should  sunder,  is  a  characteristic  tune  printed 
in  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700  ;  also  in  the  Orpheus  Caledoniiis,  1725,  No.  9. 

No.  149.  Young  Jamie,  pride  of  a*  the  plain.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  420.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  marked  for  the  tune  The 
carlin  of  the  glen,  and  Stenhouse  was  the  first  who  claimed  the  song  for  Burns. 
Nothing  is  known  of  its  history.  The  tune  is  said  to  be  in  Clark's  Flores 
Musicae,  1773,  with  the  title;  but  the  music  is  evidently  derived  from  the 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL 


403 


Scottish  form   of  Barbara  Allan,  which  is  in  Oswald's   Curious   Collection, 
1740,^,  and  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1745,  ii.  2-j. 

No.  150.  Hee  balou,  my  sweet  wee  Donald.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  472,  entitled  The  Highland  balou.  Stenhouse  says :  'This  curious 
song  is  a  versification,  by  Burns,  of  a  Gaelic  nursery  song,  the  literal  import 
of  which,  as  well  as  the  air,  were  communicated  to  him  by  a  Highland  lady. 
The  bard's  original  MS.  is  in  the  Editor's  possession.'  {Illustrations,  p.  416.} 
The  MS.,  entitled  '  Fragment,'  is  in  the  British  Museum. 

The  morality  of  the  Highland  cateran  was  that  of  the  chosen  people,  who 
thought  it  no  wrong  to  spoil  the  '  Egyptians.'  The  relation  of  the  Celt  to  the 
Sassenach,  and  to  the  rights  of  property,  are  the  subject  of  a  conversation 
between  Evan  Dhu  and  Waverley  on  Donald  Bean  Lean  and  his  daughter 
Alice : — 

'  Oich,  for  that,'  said  Evan,  '  there  is  nothing  in  Perthshire  that  she  need 
want,  if  she  ask  her  father  to  fetch  it,  unless  it  be  too  hot  or  too  heavy.' 

'  But  to  be  the  daughter  of  a  cattle  stealer — a  common  thief! ' 

'Common  thief! — no  such  thing;  Donald  Bean  Lean  never  lifted  less  than 
a  drove  in  his  life.' 

'  Do  you  call  him  an  uncommon  thief,  then  ? ' 

'No,  he  that  steals  a  cow  from  a  poor  widow  or  a  stirk  from  a  cottar  is 
a  thief;  he  that  lifts  a  drove  from  a  Sassenach  laird  is  a  gentleman  drover. 
And,  besides,  to  take  a  tree  from  the  forest,  a  salmon  from  the  river,  a  deer 
from  the  hill,  or  a  cow  from  a  Lowland  strath,  is  what  no  Highlander  need 
ever  think  shame  upon.'  ( Waverley,  chap,  xviii.) 

The  original  tune  is  in  Johnson's  Museum.  Robert  Schumann,  the  German 
composer,  adopted  the  theme,  and  treated  it  classically  in  his  Liederkreis, 
opus  25. 

No.  151.  O,  saw  ye  my  dear,  my  Philly.     Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  174, 
entitled  Saw  ye  my  Philly.     Tune,  When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit.     The  MS. 
is  in   Brechin  Castle.     A  prosaic  version  of  Eppie  McNab  (Song  No.  Z2j)t 
furnished  to  Thomson  in  October,  1794.     Burns  advised  the  editor  how  the 
tune   should   be   printed :  '  Let  me   offer  at  a  new  improvement,  or   rather 
a  restoring  of  old  simplicity,  in  one  of  your  newly-adopted  songs : — 
'  When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit  (a  crotchet  stop} 
When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit ;  (a  crotchet  stop] 
And  when  she  cam  ben,  she  kissed  Cockpen, 
And  syne  denied  that  she  did  it'  (a  crotchet  stop}. 

This  is  the  old  rhythm,  and  by  far  the  most  original  and  beautiful.  Let  the 
harmony  of  the  bass  at  the  stops  be  full,  and  thin  and  dropping  through 
the  rest  of  the  air,  and  you  will  give  the  tune  a  noble  and  striking  effect.' 
Thomson  acted  on  this  excellent  advice,  and  adopted  the  pauses  as  indicated. 
Haydn,  the  celebrated  composer  who  harmonized  the  tune  for  Scotish  Airs, 
filled  the  vocal  blanks  with  a  single  instrumental  chord. 

For  the  tune,  see  Song  No.  191,  where  Burns  did  not  treat  the  '  old  words ' 
in  the  way  he  advised  Thomson. 

No.  152.  My  luve  is  like  a  red,  red  rose.  Urbani's  Scots  Songs,  1794, 
with  an  original  melody.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  402,  signed  'R,' 
entitled  A  Red,  red  rose.  Scotish  Airs,  1 799,  89, '  from  an  old  MS.  in  the  editor's 
possession.'  The  make-up  of  a  song  which  Burns  learnt  in  his  youth.  Several 
variants  of  it  are  printed  in  the  Hogg  and  Motherwell's  Burns,  1834,  ii.  274, 
and  in  the  Centenary  edition.  The  first  four  lines  Burns  altered,  the  second 
he  left  untouched,  the  third  he  materially  altered,  and  the  last  four  lines  are 
almost,  if  not  the  identical  words  of  the  old  song.  The  rest  he  discarded ; 
and  like  nearly  everything  he  touched,  he  transformed  dead  or  commonplace 

D  d  a 


404  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

verses  into  living,  emotional  song.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  and 
contains  this  note  :  '  The  tune  of  this  song  is  in  Niel  Gow's  first  collection,  and 
is  there  called  Major  Graham?  The  first  three  stanzas  are  in  the  Museum 
as  No.  402,  to  the  tune  Major  Graham.  One  of  the  chap-books,  containing 
a  version  of  the  ballad,  belonged  to  Burns  in  his  youth.  Some  of  the  variants 
are  in  the  metre  of  Mally  Stewart  of  Song  No.  296,  as  the  following  opening 
verses  of  The  Turtle  Dove  ;  or  True  love's  farewell,  will  show: — 

'  O  fare  you  well,  my  own  true  love, 

O  farewell  for  a  while, 
But  I'll  be  sure  to  return  back  again 
If  I  go  ten  thousand  miles,  my  dear, 
If  I  go  ten  thousand  miles.' 

Thomson  printed  My  luve  is  like  a  red,  red  rose,  and  with  his  usual 
propensity  to  improve,  he  chose  a  tune  of  double  measure,  and  altered  the 
song  to  fit  it.  For  example  :  '  And  fare  thee  weel  awhile'  becomes  '  And  fare 
thee  weel  a  little  while,'  truly  a  water-logged  addition. 

The  tune  Major  Graham  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No./jr,  and  Gow's 
Strathspeys,  1 784,  6.  It  is  unconsciously  framed  on  the  lines  of  Miss  Admiral 
Gordon's  Strathspey,  No.  69  supra. 

No.  153.  The  ploughman,  he  's  a  bonie  lad.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  165.  A  new  or  amended  version  of  a  rustic  song  taken  from  Herd's 
Scots  Songs,  1769,^77,  to  furnish  words  for  the  tune.  The  second  and  third 
stanzas  in  the  Museum,  as  follows,  are  taken  from  Herd,  and  improved : — 

'  My  ploughman  he  comes  hame  at  e'en, 

He 's  aften  wat  and  weary : 

Cast  afF  the  wat,  put  on  the  dry, 

And  gae  to  bed,  my  dearie. 

'I  will  wash  my  ploughman's  hose, 

And  I  will  dress  his  o'erlay ; 
I  will  mak  my  ploughman's  bed, 
And  cheer  him  late  and  early.' 

The  rest,  considerably  altered  by  Burns,  is  in  the  text. 

Another  song  of  the  same  kind  is  sequestered  in  the  Merry  Muses.  The 
tune  The  Ploughman  is  in  the.  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  6 ;  in 
Bremner's  Reels,  1761,  89  ;  in  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  248, 
entitled  Merry  Plowman-,  and  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  41.  A  tune 
Sleepy  body  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  jo,  although  in  different 
measure,  is  substantially  the  same  melody.  The  music  for  the  chorus  of  The 
Ploughman  is  the  same  for  the  verse. 

No.  154.  Thou  hast  left  me  ever,  Jamie.  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  go. 
'  Written  for  this  work  by  R.  Burns.' .  After  hearing  Fraser  play  the  tune 
Fee  him,  father,  fee  him,  Burns  wrote  to  George  Thomson,  in  September,  1793  : 
'I  enclose  you  Fraser's  set  of  this  tune;  when  he  plays  it  slow,  in  fact  he 
makes  it  the  language  of  despair.  I  shall  here  give  you  two  stanzas  in  that 
style,  merely  to  try  if  it  will  be  any  improvement.  Were  it  possible,  in  singing, 
to  give  it  half  the  pathos  which  Fraser  gives  it  in  playing,  it  would  make 
an  admirable  pathetic  song.  I  do  not  give  these  verses  for  any  merit  they 
have.'  Thomson  kept  the  song  for  six  years,  altered  Jamie  into  Tarn,  and 
what  is  more  deplorable,  set  it  to  the  tune  My  boy  Tammie. 

Thomas  Fraser  was  .a  native  of  Edinburgh,  and  the  principal  oboe  player 
in  the  orchestral  concerts  of  the  city  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
G.  F.  Graham,  who  knew  Fraser  personally,  confirmed  Burns's  opinion  of  him 
as  a  musician.  He  died  in  1825. 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL 


405 


Burns,  in  the  Interleaved  Museum,  says:  'This  song  for  genuine  humour  in 
the  verses,  and  lively  originality  in  the  air  is  unparalleled.  I  take  it  to  be  very 
old.'  The  verses  of  Fee  him,  father,  fee  him  are  in  The  Charmer,  Edinburgh, 
1752 ;  the  last  stanza  is : — 

4  O,  fee  him,  father,  fee  him,  quo'  she, 

Fee  him,  fee  him,  fee  him, 
He'll  had  the  pleugh,  thrash  in  the  barn, 
And  crack  wi'  me  at  e'en,  quo'  she, 

And  crack  wi'  me  at  e'en.' 

The  song  is  also  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  78,  and  with  music  in 
Bremner's  Scots  Songs,  1757,  6.  With  different  words  in  Clio  and  .Euterpe, 
1762,  ii.  172,  entitled  A  new  Scotch  song;  and  Scots  Musical  Mztsettm,  1787, 
No.  9.  The  tune  alone  is  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  98.  The 
earliest  publication  of  verses  and  music  in  a  corrupted  form  is  in  Walsh's 
Original  Scotch  Songs,  c.  1 740. 

No.  155.  My  heart  is  sair — I  darena  tell.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  436,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  'For  the  sake  o"  Somebody'  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  In  Ramsay's  Miscellany,  1725,  there  is  a  song  of  no  con- 
spicuous merit  with  the  same  title.  Burns  took  the  chorus,  and  made  new 
verses.  Here  is  a  stanza  of  the  commonplace  verses  of  Ramsay  to  show  the 
alteration  Burns  effected: — 

'  I  am  gaun  to  seek  a  wife, 

I  am  gaun  to  buy  a  plaidie, 
I  have  three  stane  of  woo', 

Carling,  is  thy  daughter  ready  ? ' 

The  Jacobites  used  the  indefinite  '  somebody '  as  a  synonym  for  the  Pretender, 
and  patchwork  verses  referring  to  the  royal  line  are  in  the  Jacobite  collections. 
A  stanza  runs  : — 

'  If  Somebody  were  come  again, 

Then  Somebody  maun  cross  the  main ; 
And  ilka  ane  will  get  his  ain, 

And  I  will  see  my  Somebody.' 

Burns's  tenderly  pathetic  love-song  treats  the  passion  in  a  lofty  and  dignified 
manner.  An  unwieldy  melody  by  Allan  Masterton,  based  on  the  original 
tune,  was  communicated  to  the  editor  of  the  Museum,  and  rejected.  Burns 
wrote  underneath  the  music  that  *  it  was  difficult  to  set.'  Underneath  the  copy 
of  another  cramped  tune  by  Masterton,  Burns  remarked  that  '  the  notation 
of  the  music  seemed  incorrect,  but  I  send  it  as  I  got  it '  (Gray's  MS.  Lists}. 

For  a  copy  of  the  tune  For  the  sake  o1  Somebody,  Burns  directed  the  editor 
of  the  Museum  to  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  jo.  The 
music  consists  of  only  four  bars  repeated  in  the  chorus.  Since  Bums's  time 
a  graceful  second  strain  has  been  grafted  on,  probably  composed  by  Urbani, 
who  published  a  selection  of  Scots  Songs  between  1793  and  1799.  The  modern 
addition  is  as  follows  : — 


O  -   hon  !    for  Some  -  bo  •  dy !          O  -   hey !    for  Some  -  bo  -  dy 


I      could  range  the  world  a  -  round      For    the  sake  o'   Some  -  bo  •  dy ! 


406 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  tune  of  a  forgotten  and  now  unknown  song,  entitled  /  have  waked  the 
winter  s  nights,  corresponding  to  a  line  in  Burns's  song,  is  in  a  Dutch  music 
book,  Friesche  Lrist-Hof,  1 634.  The  song  in  the  7<?a-  Table  Miscellany  may 
probably  have  been  sung  to  that  tune,  or  another,  Carlin,  is  your  daughter 
ready?  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  24. 

No.  156.  The  "Winter  it  is  past.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  200, 
entitled  The  winter  it  is  past.  Cromek  printed  the  first  two  stanzas  in  the 
Reliques,  1808,  446,  and  other  versions  vary.  Burns  wrote  only  the  second 
stanza,  and  corrected  the  first ;  the  rest  was  printed  before  his  time  as  a  stall- 
ballad.  The  song  of  seven  stanzas  is  in  the  Herd  MS.  Dr.  Petrie  has  copied 
it  into  the  Ancient  Music  of  Ireland.  From  the  beauty  of  the  melody  it  had 
a  wide  range  of  popularity  ;  Dean  Christie  took  it  down  from  the  singing  of 
a  native  of  Banffshire,  and  inserted  the  words  and  music  (much  different 
from  our  text)  in  Traditional  Ballad  Airs,  1876,  i.  114.  The  original  song 
(imperfectly  authenticated)  belongs  to  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
and  was  written  on  a  highwayman  called  Johnson,  who  was  hung  in  1 750  for 
robberies  committed  in  the  Curragh  of  Kildare.  The  tune  is  in  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1759,  x.  p.  Both  poetry  and  music,  so  far  as  dates  are 
concerned,  make  it  a  Scottish  song. 

No.  157.  Comin  thro'  the  rye,  poor  body.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  417,  signed  '  B.'  '  This  song  was  written  by  Burns '  (Stenhouse,  Illustrations, 
p.  ^77).  Burns  wrote  against  the  title  :  '  Tune,  Millers  Wedding — a  Strathspey  ' 
(Gray's  M<$.  Lists}.  Evidence  exists  that  the  bob  of  this  jingle  was  very  popular 
in  Scotland  in  the  eighteenth  century.  A  private  version  of  the  song  is  in  the 
Merry  Muses.  A  later  edition  of  the  Museum  states  that  Comin  thro1  the  rye 
was  '  written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  Chappell,  with  patriotic  fervour, 
tried  to  show  that  a  pantomime  song,  with  the  title,  &c.,  entered  in  Stationers' 
Hall,  June  6,  1796  (Burns  died  on  July  21)  was  the  original  of  the  class.  But 
(i)  Burns  was  then  very  ill,  (2)  his  Merry  Muses  copy  was  much  earlier  than 
the  date  named,  and  (3)  he  was  acquainted  with  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
posthumous  fifth  volume  of  the  Museum,  printed  December,  1796.  Chappell's 
object  was  to  annex  the  tune  to  England,  it  being  a  variant  of  Auld  lang  syne. 
Comin  thro  the  rye  has  been  popular  in  England  since  the  close  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  it  renewed  the  imitations  of  the  '  Scots'  snap.' 

For  the  tune  and  its  variants,  see  Nos.  144  and  234.  In  Bremner's  Reels, 
1 759,  41,  it  is  entitled  The  Millers  Wedding. 

No.  158.  Wae  is  my  heart,  and  the  tear's  in  my  e'e.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  4j6.  The  holograph  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  No  reference 
to  this  song  is  in  the  poet's  writings.  Stenhouse  states  that  Burns  communi- 
cated the  melody,  which  is  very  beautiful,  to  the  editor  of  the  Museum,  where 
it  was  originally  published.  I  have  not  found  it  earlier. 

No.  159.  O  lassie,  are  ye  sleepin  yet?      Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  220. 
Tune,  Let  me  in  this  ae  night.    Scotish  Airs,  1805,  ij6.    MS.  is  in  the  Brechin 
Castle  collection.     A  version  of  a  song  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  167, 
was   altered  by  Burns   to    fit   it   for   presentation   in  the  Museiim,  where   it 
appeared   in   1792,  No.  311.      The  MS.   of  this   is   in   the    British  Museum. 
Burns  rewrote  it  in  August,  1793,  but  he  did  not  think  it  worthy  of  preservation, 
and  cast  it  aside.     In  September,  1794^  he  tried  again,  and  wrote  three  stanzas, 
but  with  the  same  result.     Finally,  the  song  in  the  text  was  transmitted  to 
Thomson  in  February,  1795,  styled  by  Burns,  'Another  trial  at  your  favourite 
air.'   The  first  stanza  and  the  chorus  are  from  the  old  song;  the  rest  is  original. 
The  following  fourth  stanza  of  the  second  part  was  suppressed  by  Burns : — 
'  My  kith  and  kin  look  down  on  me, 
A  simple  lad  of  high  degree ; 
Sae  I  maun  try  frae  love  to  flee 
Across  the  raging  main,  jo.' 


II.     LOVE-SONGS  :     GENERAL 


407 


Burns  disapproved  of  the  arrangement  of  the  tune  printed  with  the  old  song 
in  the  Museum,  and  recommended  Thomson  to  adopt  the  copy  in  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  and  to  put  the  chorus  of  the  song  to  the  high  part  of  the 
tune.  With  his  usual  perversity,  the  editor  set  the  chorus  to  the  low  part. 

The  tune,  entitled  7  he  goune  new  made,  is  said  to  be  in  Leydetis  AJS.,  1685  ; 
as  I  would  have  my  goune  made  in  Sinklers  MS.,  1710  ;  entitled  Will  ye  lend 
me  your  loom,  lass  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  21 ;  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  jii,  with  the  old  words  amended  by  Burns;  and 
in  Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1794,  ii.  97. 

No.  160.  Will  ye  go  to  the  Highlands,  Leezie  Lindsay  ?  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1796,  No.  434,  entitled  Leezie  Lindsay.  Burns  appears  to  have 
recovered  the  ballad  or  Leezie  Lindsay,  and  intended  to  make  a  complete  song 
out  of  it.  Johnson  of  the  Museum  marked  on  the  musical  MS.  which  Burns  sent, 
'  Mr.  Burns  is  to  send  words,'  but  the  four  lines  in  the  text  are  the  whole 
contribution.  Jamieson,  in  Popular  Ballads,  1806,  ii.  149,  first  published  the 
complete  ballad,  which  refers  to  Donald  MacDonald,  heir  of  Kingcausie, 
who  proposes  to  go  to  Edinburgh  for  a  wife.  His  mother  consents  on  the 
condition  that  he  shall  represent  himself  as  a  poor  man.  To  the  '  bonny  young 
ladies '  of  Edinburgh  he  promises  curds  and  whey,  a  bed  of  bracken,  &c.  The 
tune  was  communicated  to  Johnson  of  the  Museum^  where  it  was  first  printed. 
It  is  a  remarkably  simple  melody. 

*No.  161.  'Twas  past  one  o'clock.    Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 790,  No.  22*], 
signed  '  Z.'     The  MS.  verses  are  in  the  British  Museum.     In  the  Law  MS., 
'  Mr.  Burns's  old  words ' ;    and   further   on  in  the  same  sheet  is  the  note : 
'  There  is  an  excellent  set  of  this  tune  in  McGibbon  which  exactly  suits  with  the 
words/  which  were  first  sketched  in  August,  1 788,  at  Mauchline.     The  air  in  a 
rudimentary  form  is  in  the  opera  Flora,  1729,  with  Gibber's  verses,  beginning : — 
'  'Twas  past  twelve  o'clock  on  a  fine  summer  morning 
When  all  the  village  slept  pleasantly,'  &c. 

The  tune  with  a  Celtic  title,  Chi  mi  ma  chattle,  is  in  Ramsay's  Musick, 
c.  1726,  and  a  song  is  so  marked  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724.  The 
music,  widely  known,  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  16 ; 
McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  119  ;  and  Thumoth's  Scotch  and  Irish  Airs. 

In  my  copy  of  McGibbon  some  previous  owner  has  marked  the  title  Madhyn 
Bugeeven,  as  if  it  were  a  Dutch  melody. 

No.  162.  Jockie's  taen  the  parting  kiss.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  397', 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  jyo,  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert 
Burns';  Edinburgh  edition,  1877*  and  Centenary  Burns,  1897.  Stenhouse 
remarks  that  '  this  charming  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Mttseum ' 
{Illustrations,  p.  490}. 

The  tune  is  probably  English,  and  the  copy  is  a  bad  setting  of  Bonie  lass 
take  a  man  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1759,  xi.  18,  which,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Glen,  was  one  of  the  airs  sung  in  Mitchell's  opera,  Highland  Fair, 
I73L 

No.  163.  As  I  was  walking  up  the  street.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803, 
No. /p7,  '  Written  for  this  work  by. Robert  Burns  ;'  Edinburgh  edition,  1877  ; 
and  in  the  Centenary  Burns,  1897,  iii.  207,  where  the  last  and  best  stanza  is 
omitted.  Stenhouse  affirms  that  the  song  was  written  by  Burns  for  the  Museum 
(Illustrations,  p.  jio}.  W7hen  and  why  it  was  written  has  not  been  discovered. 
It  is  the  second  last  song  by  Burns  in  the  Museum.  The  tune  is  said  by  Stenhouse 
to  have  been  communicated  by  Burns.  Mr.  Glen  states  that  the  air  is  entitled 
Devil  fly  over  the  -water  wf  her  in  Aird's  Keels,  c.  1788,  a  collection  which  I 
have  not  seen. 

No.  164.  Is  this  thy  plighted,  fond  regard?  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  7°> 
'  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Roy's  wife.'  The  MS.  is  in  the 


408 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Thomson  collection.  Sent  to  Thomson  on  November  20, 1794.  '  Since  yesterday's 
penmanship,  I  have  framed  a  couple  of  English  stanzas,  by  way  of  an  English 
song  to  Roy's  wife.  You  will  allow  me  that  in  this  instance  my  English  corre- 
sponds in  sentiment  with  the  Scottish.'  This  was  originally  written  to  celebrate 
Mrs.  Riddell,  but  her  name  was  cancelled,  and  an  imaginary  one  inserted. 
The  tune  Roys  wife  or  Ruffiarfs  rant  is  noted  in  Song  No.  239. 

Wo.  165.  There  was  a  bonie  lass,  and  a  bonie,  bonie  lass.  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  jS6,  (  By  R.  Burns.'  No  historical  evidence  has 
been  forthcoming  for  this  fragment  in  the  Museum,  except  that  it  is  marked  as 
stated. 

The  tune,  A  bonie  lass,  so  far  as  concerns  the  first  section,  is  a  variation  of 
Pinky  house  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonitis,  1733,  No.  21,  and  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  n\  the  second  part  appears  to  be  original. 

*No.  166.  As  late  by  a  sodger  I  chanced  to  pass.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  268.  Neither  Stenhouse  nor  Cromek  connect  Burns  with  this  song, 
nor  is  it  in  his  published  works.  In  Law's  MS.  List  for  the  third  volume  of 
the  Museum  Burns  wrote  against  the  title,  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words.'  The  first 
twelve  lines  are  substantially  those  in  the  Herd  MS.,  and  the  remaining  four 
lines  are  original  to  complete  the  second  stanza  for  the  tune,  which  is  marked  as 
to  be  sung  for  one  of  Allan  Ramsay's  songs  in  his  Miscellany,  1725.  Ramsay's 
verses,  beginning  'Adieu  for  a  while,'  are  reprinted  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 
1769,  106. 

The  music  without  title  is  in  Sinkler's  MS.,  1710;  as  a  variation  entitled 
Gig  it  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  77.;  and  with  the  title 
Pllmakye  be  fain  to  follow  me  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1757,  24  ;  Stewart's  Reels, 
1761,  10  •  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  12  ;  and  elsewhere. 

*No.  167.  O  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do?  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  2)6.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  and  in  Law's  MS.,  '  Mr. 
B.  gave  the  old  words,'  in  the  poet's  handwriting.  Part  of  the  verses  are  in 
the  Herd  MS.  The  alteration  made  by  Burns  was  to  recast  six  lines  into 
eight,  the  second  line  being  original. 

The  tune  is  in  Sinklers  MS.,  1710,  entitled  0  Minie\  in  Oswald's  Curious 
Collection  of  Scots  Tunes,  1740,  28  \  in  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751, 
iii.  10 ;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,  jj.  A  similar  melody  is  in  Apollo's 
Banquet,  1695,  entitled  Long  cold  nights. 


III.   LOVE:    HUMOROUS. 


No.  168.  Here  's  to  thy  health,  my  bonie  lass !  Scots  Miisical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  495,  signed  '  B,'  with  the  tune  Laggan  Bum.  I  adopt  the  opinion 
of  Scott- Douglas,  that  this  is  an  early  production  of  Burns,  but  the  chronology 
is  uncertain.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  In  a  later  issue  of  the 
Museum  it  is  marked  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  According  to 
Mrs.  Begg,  the  poet's  sister,  the  song  was  known  previous  to  her  time,  but  there 
is  no  trace  of  any  such  song. 

According  to  Stenhouse,  Burns  communicated  to  Johnson  of  the  Museum  two 
melodies  for  this  song,  Laggan  Bttrn,  and  another.  The  'other'  was  not 
suitable,  and  Laggan  Burn  was  chosen.  Stephen  Clarke,  the  musical  editor, 
is  reputed  to  have  adapted  it  to  the  verse  according  to  Burns's  direction. 
It  is  not  easy  to  account  for  the  neglect  of  this  insinuating  melody.  It  may  be 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS 


409 


I 


compared  with   Greenend  Park,  in  Malcolm  McDonal<Ts  Reels  t  second  coll., 
1789,70. 

No.  169.  The  taylor  fell  thro*  the  bed.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  212,  entitled  The  taylor  fell  thro1  the  bed,  &c.  The  air  is  the  March 
of  the  Corporation  of  Tailors.  '  The  second  and  fourth  stanzas  are  mine  ' 
{Interleaved  Museum);  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words,'  in  Law's  MS.  List.  The  tune 
is  in  Atkinson's  MS.,  1694,  entitled  Beware  of  the  Ripells\  in  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  xi.  28;  and  as  The  Taylors  March  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782, 
i.  No.  777.  A  song  with  substantially  the  above  title  is  in  the  Merry  Muses ;  it 
is  named  /  rede  you  beware  o1  the  ripples,  to  the  tune  The  taylor 's  faun  thro1 
the  bed,  the  second  stanza  being : — 

'  I  rede  you  beware  o'  the  ripples,  young  man, 

I  rede  you  beware  o'  the  ripples,  young  man, 
Tho'  music  be  pleasure,  tak  music  in  measure 

Or  ye  may  want  win'  i'  your  whistle,  young  man.' 

See  the  tune  No.  172,  which  is  the  same  as  this,  differently  arranged.  The 
more  modern  Logie  o'  Buchan  is  nothing  but  this  seventeenth  century  melody, 
which  is  also  allied  to  /  love  my  love  in-secret,  No.  no. 

No.  170.  O,  merry  hae  I  been  teethin  a  heckle.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  270.  Tune,  Lord  Breadalbine's  March.  'Mr.  B.'s  old  words' 
(Law's  MS.  List]  in  Burns's  handwriting.  Stenhouse  had  the  MS.  of  the  song 
through  his  hands.  There  is  no  authority  for  assuming  that  it  is  a  variant  of 
the  tinker's  song  in  The  Jolly  Beggars,  although  it  looks  it. 

The  Celtic  tune  of  Burns's  choice  has  no  sort  of  affinity  with  The  bob  0' 
Dumblane.  Mr.  Henley  has  followed  Scott-Douglas  in  assuming  that  it  is  the 
same  air.  The  bob  o  Dumblane  is  the  tune  of  Song  No.  204,  and  can  be 
compared  with  Lord  Breadalbinfs  March,  or  Boddich  na'mbrigs,  which  is  in 
Dow's  Ancient  Scots  Music,  c.  1776,^2.  It  is  an  excellent  specimen  of  Scots 
dance  music  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  lacks  the  intervals  of  a  fourth  and 
a  seventh,  and  closes  on  the  second  of  the  scale. 

No.  171.  My  lord  a-hunting  he  is  gane.  Scots  Musical  Musetim,  1803, 
No.  554,  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns/  This  is  a  side  view  of  one 
of  the  fashionable  amusements  of  the  eighteenth  century.  '  The  kith  and  kin  of 
Cassilis'  blude '  recalls  the  ancient  renown  of  the  Kennedy  family,  which  has 
been  in  the  Scottish  peerage  since  1510.  Cassilis  House,  near  Ayr,  was  the 
scene  of  the  not  unwilling  abduction  of  the  Countess,  and  her  subsequent 
incarceration  for  life  in  the  tower  with  the  heads  of  Faa  and  his  gypsy  gang 
emblazoned  in  stone  on  the  turrets.  The  ballad  of  Johnny  Faa  or  The  Gypsy 
Laddie  is  supposed  to  have  its  origin  from  this  traditional  story. 

According  to  Stenhouse,  the  tune  is  the  composition  of  James  Greig,  a  teacher 
of  dancing  in  Ayrshire,  who  had  a  taste  for  painting,  mechanics,  and  natural 
history.  My  lady's  gown  was  originally  published  in  the  Museum.  It  is  a 
remarkably  good  specimen  of  the  untutored  music  of  Scotland  without  regard 
to  any  of  the  scholastic  rules  of  the  art.  Another  specimen  of  Greig's  tunes  is  in 
Stewart's  Reels,  1762,  44,  and  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  //,  entitled  Greig's 
pipes. 

No.  172.  The  heather  was  blooming.  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808,  450; 
entitled  Hunting  Song,  for  the  tune  /  rede  ye  beware  o1  the  ripells ,  young  man. 
It  is  one  of  the  Crochallan  Club  Songs  in  the  Merry  Muses,  or  rather  an 
amended  version  of  a  song  then  current,  but  now  not  available.  Mrs.  McLehose 
begged  the  author  not  to  print  it,  and  he  acted  on  the  advice,  but  Cromek, 
though  very  fastidious  about  The  Jolly  Beggars,  inserted  it  in  the  Reliques 
of  Burns.  For  the  tune,  see  Note  169. 


410  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

No.  173.  Weary  fa'  you,  Duncan  Gray.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  160,  signed  'Z.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  'Dr.  Blacklock 
informed  me  that  he  had  often  heard  the  tradition  that  this  air  was  composed 
by  a  carman  in  Glasgow'  {Interleaved  Museum}.  Founded  on  an  old  song, 
and  written  for  the  Museum.  Burns  borrowed  the  rhythm,  and  the  refrain, 
'  Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't.'  A  version  of  four  stanzas  in  the  Merry  Muses 
begins  :  — 

'  Can  ye  play  me  Duncan  Gray  ? 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't  ! 
O'er  the  hills  and  far  away, 

Ha,  ha,  the  girdin  o't  ! 
'  Duncan  cam  our  Meg  to  woo, 

Meg  was  nice  and  wadna  do, 
But  like  an  ether  puffed  and  blew 

At  offer  o'  the  girdin  o't,'  &c. 

Substantially  the  same  verses  of  five  stanzas  are  in  the  Herd  MS.  in  the 
British  Museum.     They  are  not  redolent  of  a  pious  education.'  For  the  tune, 
»      see  Note  779. 

No.  174.  Wi'  braw  new  branks  in  meikle  pride.  Lockhart's  Life  of 
Burns,  1829.  Burns  has  described  the  interest  be  felt  in  parish  secrets  as  a 
statesman  in  the  knowledge  of  European  diplomacy  at  his  finger  ends.  His 
friends  employed  him  as  a  confidential  clerk  to  write  their  letters,  and  he  acted 
the  part  of  an  unpaid  French  notaire  in  conducting  their  correspondence. 
In  this  case  it  was  a  poetical  epistle  on  behalf  of  William  Chalmers,  a  solicitor 
of  Ayr,  the  same  who  drew  the  deed  assigning  Burns's  interest  in  the  farm 
of  Mossgiel  to  his  brother  Gilbert  when  the  poet  decided  to  emigrate.  Burns 
sent  the  epistle  to  the  sweetheart  of  his  friend;  in  1787  he  gave  a  copy  to 
Lady  Don,  who  handed  it  to  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

I  cannot  discover  that  the  verses  were  written  for  any  particular  melody. 
An  old  tune,  Omnia  vincit  Amor,  in  the  Skene  MS.,  c.  1630,  will  suit  the 
words.  .It  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  Book,  viii.  considerably 
altered. 

No.  175.  I  am  my  mammy's  ae  bairn.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  107,  signed  '  Z,'  to  the  tune  Pm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet.  '  The  chorus  of 
this  song  is  old  ;  the  rest  of  it,  such  as  it  is,  is  mine  '  {Interleaved  Museum). 
With  considerable  emendations,  it  still  occupies  a  place  in  all  modern  collections 
of  Scottish  song,  and  is  very  popular  to  a  modern  tune,  different  from  that  in  the 
text  for  which  it  was  written. 

In  Cromek's  Scotish  Songs,  i.  707,  is  an  additional  stanza,  not  by  Burns, 
which  that  editor  thinks  ought  to  be  restored,  but  our  text  may  be  quite 
sufficient.  Two  stanzas  of  another  of  the  same  kind  are  in  the  Herd  MS., 
beginning  :  — 

'  I  am  gaun  to  court  a  wife, 
And  I'll  love  her  as  my  life  ; 
But  she  is  a  young  thing, 
And  new  come  frae  her  minnie.' 

The  subject  is  common  to  the  folk-song  of  other  countries.  There  is,  for 
example,  a  French  popular  song  of  the  fifteenth  century  with  the  same  text, 
beginning,  '  Je  suis  trop  jeunette,  Pour  faire  ung  amy,'  &c.  The  excellent  old 
melody  of  these  French  verses  may  be  seen  in  Tiersot's  Chanson  Populaire,  Paris, 
1889,  66. 

The  tune,  I'm  o'er  young,  slightly  varied  from  that  in  our  text,  is  in  Bremner's 
Reels,  1758,  .zS;  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  7;  and  McGlashan's  Reels,  1786,  46. 
An  offshoot  is  probably  Loch  Eroch  Side,  No.  //. 

No.  176.  There  was  a  lass,  they  ca'd  her  Meg.    Scots  Musical  Museum, 


.TVv  .fl 


tf  •&    V,' 

C. 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS 


411 


I 


1788,  No.  149,  entitled  Duncan  Davison.  Signed 'Z.'  This  merry  rustic 
song  is  not  named  by  Burns  in  any  of  his  writings,  neither  is  it  among  the 
Burns  MS.  in  the  British  Museum.  Stenhouse  states  :  '  I  have  recovered  his 
original  MS.  of  the  song,  which  is  the  same  as  that  inserted  in  the  Museum ' 
(Illustrations ;  p.  779).  The  model  is  a  song  of  two  double  stanzas,  which 
Burns  wrote  in  the  Merry  Muses,  and  a  fragment  of  another  of  the  same  sort, 
You'll  aye  be  welcome  back,  is  in  Herd"1*  MS. 

The  tune,  as  in  our  text,  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  56,  entitled  Ye' II  ay  be 
welcome  back  again;  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  31,  entitled  Duncan  Davie, 
In  McGlashan's  Strathspey  Keels,  1 780, 14,  it  bears  the  name  Diincan  Davidson, 
by  which  it  has  since  been  known.  It  is  in  Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1794,  i.  /#, 
with  Burns's  verses.  For  another  setting  of  the  tune,  see  No.  36. 

No.  177.  The  blude-red  rose  at  Yule  may  blow.  Scots  Mtisical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  182,  entitled  To  daunton  me.  Two  MSS.  containing  the 
complete  song  in  his  handwriting  are  in  the  British  Museum ;  and  into 
the  Interleaved  Museum  he  copied  two  stanzas  (apparently  from  memory) 
of  the  following  good  Jacobite  song,  which  is  in  Loyal  Songs,  1750,  and 
refers  to  the  Revolution  of  1688 : — 

'  To  daunton  me,  to  daunton  me, 

Do  you  ken  the  thing  that  would  daunton  me  ? 

Eighty-eight,  and  eighty-nine, 

And  a'  the  dreary  years  sinsyne, 

With  cess  and  press  and  presbytrie, 

Good  faith !    this  had  liken  till  a  daunton  me. 
'  But  to  wanton  me,  but  to  wanton  me, 

Do  you  ken  the  thing  that  would  wanton  me? 

To  see  gude  corn  upon  the  rigs, 

And  banishment  to  all  the  Whigs, 

And  right  restor'd  where  right  should  be ; 

O,  these  are  the  things  that  wad  wanton  me. 
'  But  to  wanton  me,  but  to  wanton  me, 

And  ken  ye  what  maist  would  wanton  me  ? 

To  see  King  James  at  Edinb'rough  Cross, 

With  fifty  thousand  foot  and  horse, 

And  the  usurper  forc'd  to  flee ; 

O,  this  is  what  maist  would  wanton  me.' 

Several  versions  of  this  song  exist,  satirizing  the  Whigs  and  in  praise  of  the 
Stuarts.  The  domestic  song  of  Burns  harps  on  the  old  tale  of  the  attempted 
purchase  of  a  young  wife  by  an  old  man.  The  subject  is  one  of  Poggio's 
Jocose  Tales  of  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century. 

The  tune  of  Burns's  song  in  the  Museum  is  printed  incorrectly.  It  embraces 
eight  lines,  but  the  original  stanza,  as  above,  is  six  lines.  The  memorandum 
written  by  Burns  in  his  copy  of  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1743, 
i.  16,  runs :  '  The  chorus  is  set  to  the  first  part  of  the  tune,  which  just  suits  it 
when  played  or  sung  once  over.'  The  music  is  in  Atkinsons  MS.,  1694,  2j; 
Oswald's  Curious  Collection,  1740,  38;  M°Gibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,^7; 
Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  60,  and  elsewhere. 

No.  178.  Her  daddie  forbad,  her  minnie  forbad.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  138,  with  the  tune  Jumpin  John.  Stenhouse  states  that 
this  is  the  fragment  of  an  earlier  song,  which  Burns  mended  to  illustrate 
a  melody  requiring  words.  But  nothing  is  known  of  any  song  of  the  kind 
except  one  with  the  title  My  daddie  forbad,  my  minnie  forbad  in  Ramsay's 
Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724,  not  at  all  resembling  Burns's  verses.  It  is  in 
Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  133.  The  title  Jumpin  John  is  in  Burns's  hand- 
writing in  Gray's  Museum  Lists.  The  tune,  although  well  known  in  Scotland 


412  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

under  this  title,  is  not  a  Scottish  air.  As  Joan's  placket  is  torn,  it  has  been 
in  use  for  nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  years.  Pepys,  in  his  diary  of  June  22, 
1667,  describing  the  capture  of  the  man-of-war  Royal  Charlie  by  the  Dutch, 
speaks  of  a  trumpeter  sounding  Joan's  placket  is  torn. 

The  music  is  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1686.  A  political  song  with 
the  music  is  in  280  Loyal  Songs,  1685,  143.  The  second  part  of  the  tune  is 
-the  chorus  of  Lilliburlero ,  the  celebrated  political  song  of  1688,  which  Wharton 
claimed  to  have  written,  and  which  he  boasted  had  sung  a  king  out  of  three 
kingdoms.  Lastly,  it  is  the  parent  stock  of  a  spurious  Celtic  air  The  Cock 
of  the  North,  played  on  the  great  Highland  bagpipe,  much  in  vogue  a  year 
or  two  ago.  In  Scottish  collections,  the  tune  as  Jumpin  Joan  is  in  the 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1758,  ix.  10  ;  and  as  When  I  folio-wed  a  lass  in 
Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  96. 

Wo.  179.  Duncan  Gray  cam  here  to  woo.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs, 
1798,  48,  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Duncan  Gray? 
The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson  collection.  Sent  to  Thomson  with  his  song  Auld 
Rob  Morris :  l  The  foregoing  I  submit  to  your  better  judgment ;  acquit 
or  condemn  them  as  seemeth  good  in  your  sight.  Duncan  Gray  is  that  kind 
of  light-horse  gallop  of  an  old  air  which  precludes  sentiment.  The  ludicrous 
is  the  leading  feature.'  It  is  an  original  treatment  of  the  old  song,  and  one 
of  the  best-known  of  Burns's  humorous  productions.  The  ancestry  is  treated 
in  Note  No.  ijj. 

The  tune  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1751,  Hi.  8 ;  McGibbon's 
Scots  Tunes,  1755,  i;  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  in;  and  with  part  of  the  old 
song  in  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  260.  For  the  music,  see  No.  273. 

No.  180.  Hey  the  dusty  miller.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  144, 
entitled  Dusty  miller,  with  music.  A  holograph  title  is  in  the  Gray  MS.,. 
and  a  MS.  of  the  verses  is  in  the  British  Museum.  This  is  another  of  the 
unconsidered  trifles  floating  among  the  peasantry,  which  Burns  dressed  for 
the  Museum.  The  original  is  in  the  Herd  MS.  All  the  second  stanza  is 
Burns's,  and  he  corrected  the  rest  to  preserve  the  melody.  The  miller  was  an 
important  person  in  Scotland.  The  multure,  or  mouter,  was  the  portion  of  the 
grain  retained  by  him  as  the  charge  for  grinding.  He  had  the  reputation 
of  being  able  to  take  care  of  himself,  and  Acts  of  Parliament  were  passed 
to  protect  the  public  against  his  extortion.  He  is  embalmed  in  satirical  songs 
of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  centuries. 

The  tune  as  Binnys  jigg  is  in  Blackie's  MS.,  1692;  as  Dusty  miller  in 
Bremner's  Reels,  1758,  27;  Welsh's  Compleat  Dancing  Master,  c.  1718;  and 
Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1 794,  iii.  16}. 

No.  181.  I  gaed  up  to  Dunse.  In  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803,  No./^f/, 
entitled  Robin  shure  in  haste.  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.' 
'  Mr.  B.  gave  the  old  words '  (Law's  MS.  List}.  The  poet  himself  was  not  the 
hero  of  the  verses,  for  on  August  23,  1787,  he  wrote  to  Robert  Ainslie,  heading 
the  letter  with  a  first  stanza,  and  ending  '  Call  your  boy  what  you  think  proper, 
only  interject  BURNS.  What  say  you  to,a  Scripture  name?  ior  instance,  Zimri 
Burns  Ainslie,  or  Achitophell,  &c.  &c.,  look  your  Bible  for  these  two  heroes.' 
In  another  letter  to  the  same  correspondent,  dated  January  6,  1789,  he  says, 
'I  am  still  catering  for  Johnson's  publication,  and  among  others,  I  have 
brushed  up  the  following  old  favourite  song  a  little,  with  a  view  to  your 
worship,  I  have  only  altered  a  word  here  and  there ;  but  if  you  like  the  humour 
of  it,  we  shall  think  of  a  stanza  or  two  to  add  to  it.'  The  first  Border  tour 
ended  in  the  middle  of  June,  1787,  when  Burns  accompanied  Ainslie  and  stayed 
for  a  short  time  in  the  house  of  Ainslie's  father,  at  Dunse  ;  so  that  the  Robin  of 
the  song  who  gaed  to  Dunse,  and  played  a  trick  with  the  Elder's  daughter, 
was  his  young  friend,  who  afterwards  became  a  writer  to  the  Signet,  settled 
down  as  a  grave  and  serious  person,  and  as  Lockhart  remarks,  '  is  best  known 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS  413 

as  the  writer  of  Manuals  of  Devotion.'  He  died  in  1838,  and,  as  Burns  pre- 
dicted elsewhere,  left  a  good  deal  more  than  the  professional  '  three  goose 
feathers  and  a  whittle.' 

The  tune  is  familiar  on  both  sides  of  the  Border,  and  only  a  portion  is  used 
for  the  song.  The  whole  may  be  seen  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
I753>  v-  IIi  as  a  very  good  example  of  the  peculiar  measure  and  rhythm  of  the 
Scottish  pipe  melodies.  It  is  also  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1768,  103.  That  hi  the 
Museum,  printed  with  Burns's  verses,  is  the  old  English  and  different  air  Bob 
and  Joan. 

No.  182.  My  love,  she 's  but  a  lassie  yet.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  225,  and  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1798,  j/.  In  the  Law  MS.  Burns 
describes  this  as  his  '  old  words,'  and  a  holograph  of  the  verses  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  The  last  four  lines  is  the  middle  stanza  of  a  song  in  Herd's  Scottish 
Songs,  1776,  ii.  22$  (not  in  the  1769  edition),  entitled  Green  grow  the  rashes,  0. 
The  second  stanza  of  the  song  in  the  text  seems  to  have  little  connexion  with 
the  first,  and  so  far  as  known  Burns  wrote  the  whole  except  the  last  four  lines. 

The  earliest  date  when  the  tune  bears  the  title  My  love  s/ie's  but  a  lassie  yet 
is  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  i\  so  it  would  appear  that  either  Herd  did  not 
know  the  air  of  the  song,  or  that  between  1776  and  1782  it  was  changed.  The 
original  publication  of  the  tune  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1757, 19,  entitled  Miss 
Farquharson 's  Reel.  Stenhouse  saw  a  manuscript  copy  of  the  music,  entitled 
Lady  BadinscotWs  Reel,  'in  a  musical  publication  of  a  few  years  earlier  date, 
which  only  proves  that  the  air  was  very  popular  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It 
is  necessary  to  correct  a  mistake  of  C.  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe,  who  asserts  in 
Stenhouse's  Illustrations,  p.  *joj,  that  Put  up  thy  dagger  Jamie  is  the  same  as 
the  tune  in  the  text.  That  tune  in  the  Fitzwilliam  Virginal  Book,  c.  1650, 
is  quite  a  different  melody. 

No.  183.  I  murder  hate  by  field  or  flood.  Stewart's  Edition,  1802,  and 
Edinburgh  Edition,  1877,  ii.  295.  In  the  Glenriddell  MS.,  entitled  A  Song. 
Burns  wrote  the  first  eight  lines  on  a  window  of  the  Globe  Tavern,  Dumfries, 
where  he  and  Stephen  Clarke,  the  musician,  had  many  a  merry  meeting.  The 
tune  is  unknown  if  ever  there  was  one,  which  is  doubtful. 

No.  184.  Wha  is  that  at  my  bower-door  ?  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 792, 
No.  J77-  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  and  a  copy  of  the  verses  is  in  the 
Merry  Muses.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Burns  wrote  the  song,  although 
Cromek's  quotation,  '  The  words  are  mine,'  are  not  in  the  Interleaved  Museum 
as  printed  in  R cliques,  1808,  joi.  In  the  Centenary  B^^rns,  1897,  it  is  shown 
that  the  original  is  Who  but  I,  quoth  Finlay,  '  a  new  song  much  in  request, 
sung  with  its  proper  tune ' ;  a  prosaic  production  of  seven  stanzas,  of  which 
a  broadside  copy  is  in  Lord  Rosebery's  collection,  beginning : — 

'  There  dwells  a  man  into  this  town, 

Some  say  they  call  him  Finlay  ; 
He  is  a  brisk  and  an  able  man — 
O,  if  I  knew  but  Finlay ! ' 

Nearly  all  the  incidents  were  taken  from  this  song,  but  it  is  as  brass  to  the 
gold  of  Burns's  humorous  verses.  The  find  disposes  of  the  myth  that  they  were 
written  on  James  Findlay  of  Tarbolton,  the  exciseman,  and  a  colleague  of 
Burns. 

The  tune  bears  the  title  of  the  chorus  of  an  old  song,  as  follows : — 

'  Lass,  an  I  come  near  thee, 
Lass,  an  I  come  near  thee, 
I'll  gar  a'  your  ribbons  reel 
Lass,  an  I  come  near  thee.' 


414  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

A  fragment  of  a  different  kind,  in  two  stanzas  for  the  same  tune,  is  in 
the  Herd  MS.  A  wife  replies  to  her  husband  : — 

'  Say 't  o'er  again,  say  't  o'er  again — 

Ye  thief,  that  I  may  hear  ye ; 
I'se  gar  ye  dance  upon  a  peat 
Gin  I  sail  come  but  near  ye.' 

In  Findlay's  MS.,  c.  1715,  there  is  a  tune  entitled  Findlay  cam  to  my  bed 
stock,  which  I  have  not  seen.  In  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  183,  is  Lass,  if 
I  come  near  thee.  Schumann,  the  German  composer,  composed  an  original 
melody  for  Burns's  song. 

No.  185.  There's  a  youth  in  this  city.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  2j8,  signed  Z,  '  a  Gaelic  air'  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words'  (Law's  MS.  List}. 
The  MS.  in  the  British  Museum  contains  directions  for  the  air.  '  This  air  is 
claimed  by  Niel  Gow,  who  calls  it  his  Lament  for  his  brother.  The  first 
half-stanza  of  the  song  is  old,  the  rest  is  mine*  {Interleaved  Museum}.  Else- 
where he  instructed  the  editor  of  the  Museum  to  leave  out  the  name  of  the 
tune,  and  call  it  a  Gaelic  air.  Nothing  more  is  known  of  the  history  of 
the  song. 

The  tune  Niel  Cow's  Lament,  in  his  second  collection  of  Reels,  1788,  is  a 
good  example  of  the  Highland  style,  and  worth  reprinting. 

No.  188.  O  meikle  thinks  my  luve  o*  my  beauty.  Scots  Mtisical 
Museum,  1792,  No. 312,  signed  <B,'  entitled  My  tocher's  the  jewel.  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1799,  73.  According  to  Cromek  the  fifth  and  sixth  lines  are 
much  older  than  Burns  ;  and  the  last  four  lines  were  sent  to  Tytler  in  1787  by 
Burns,  and  marked  as  '  Stanza  of  an  old  song'  in  Cronoek's  Scotish  Songs,  1810, 
ii.  207.  The  original  MS.  is  unknown,  but  Stenhouse  saw  it,  and  is  precise  in 
the  statement  that  the  following  remark  on  the  tune  was  written  by  the  poet : 
'  This  song  is  to  be  sung  to  the  air  called  Lord  Elcho' s  favourite  (another  name 
for  the  tune),  but  do  not  put  that  name  above  it,  let  it  just  pass  for  the  tune 
of  the  song,  and  a  beautiful  tune  it  is.'  Burns  has  a  note  in  the  Interleaved 
Museum  stating  that  Nathaniel  Gow  claimed  the  air,  but  it  is  before  his  time ; 
and  the  music  in  the  text  is  a  jig  variation,  without  title,  of  The  highway 
to  Edinburgh  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  I751)  iii-  28,  and  reprinted 
in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  ^09.  This  beautiful  melody  was  copied  into 
a  collection  of  Gow's,  who  named  it  Lord  Elcho' s  favourite,  hence  the  in- 
struction of  Burns  that  the  tune  should  be  given  the  title  of  his  song.  This 
treatment  of  the  melody  is  evidence  of  Burns's  acute  perception  of  musical 
sound.  The  tune  The  highway  to  Edinburgh  (not  the  variation  in  the  text), 
is  almost  identical  in  the  second  movement  with  The  black  eagle  in  Oswald's 
Companion. 

No.  187.  Whare  are  you  gaun,  my  bonie  lass.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  288,  entitled  A  wauknfe  minnie.  In  the  Interleaved  Museum, 
Burns  says, '  I  pickt  up  this  old  song  and  tune  from  a  country  girl  in  Nithsdale. 
I  never  met  with  it  elsewhere  in  Scotland.'  It  is  thought  that  he  amended 
some  verses,  and  wrote  others.  I  can  find  no  trace  of  any  original  prior 
to  Burns. 

The  simple  air  communicated  by  Burns  has  all  the  marks  of  pure  unsophisti- 
cated music. 

No.  188.  My  heart  is  a-breaking,  dear  Tittie.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  296,  entitled  Tarn  Glen  ;  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  66.  '  Mr. 
Burns's  words '  (Law's  MS.  List}.  Stenhouse  says  that  there  was  an  old  song  of 
the  title,  but  gives  no  reference ;  I  can  find  no  such  song  in  any  of  the  col- 
lections. The  verses  of  Tarn  Glen  are  uniformly  good,  it  is  one  of  the  best  of 
Burns's  humorous  songs,  and  maintains  undiminished  popularity.  The  original 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS 


415 


publication,  obviously  surreptitious,  is  in  the  Edinburgh  Magazine,  1789,  x. 
35  Ti  signed  T.  S.,  following  which  is  the  original  anonymous  publication  of 
Burns's  poem,  The  humble  petition  of  Bruar  Water.  It  may  be  remarked  that 
Robert  Riddell  has  a  note  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  (unnoticed  by  Cromek) 
saying  that  Tarn  Glen  'is  the  composition  of  my  much  esteemed  friend, 
Mr.  Burns,  to  the  tune  of  Mall  Roe"  I  do  not  know  any  melody  of  this  title, 
but  Mad  Moll  is  in  the  same  time  and  rhythm,  but  not  the  same  music  as  that 
of  Tarn  Glen,  which  is  also  of  English  origin,  and  known  as  Heivson  the 
Cobbler.  It  was  sung  to  the  words,  « I  once  was  a  poet,'  &c.,  in  the  opera 
of  The  Jovial  Crew,  1731,  and  the  music  can  be  seen  in  Walsh's  edition,  p.  6. 
It  belongs  to  a  scurrilous  and  indecent  Commonwealth  song,  entitled  Old 
Hewson  the  Cobbler,  the  verses  of  which  are  in  the  Vocal  Miscellany,  Dublin, 
1738,  JTJ*.  Hewson  was  a  remarkable  man  of  considerable  talent.  He  was 
originally  a  shoemaker,  had  only  one  eye,  was  a  soldier  in  the  Parliamentary 
army,  became  a  colonel,  was  knighted  by  Cromwell,  and  afterwards  was  one  of 
his  lords.  The  Restoration  song-books  teem  with  punning  verses  on  his  person 
and  character.  Tarn  Glen  was  very  early  divorced  from  its  proper  tune,  and  is 
now  universally  set  to  The  muckin  61  Geordys  byre,  for  which  see  Song  and 
Note,  No.  //. 

Wo.  189.  They  snool  me  sair,  and  haud  me  down.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  \  792,  No.  jr//,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  0  ,for  ane-and-twenty  Tarn.  Tune, 
The  moudiewart.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  59-  This  is  an  original  song 
with  the  exception  of  the  first  line,  the  title  of  the  tune.  Burns  acknowledged 
having  written  it  in  a  letter  dated  October  19,  1794,  and  directed  it  to  be  set  to 
the  tune  in  the  text,  for  which  there  is  a  song  in  the  Merry  Muses  : — 
*  This  moudiewart  tho'  it  be  blin', 

If  ance  its  nose  you  lat  it  in ; 
Then  to  the  hilts,  within  a  crack, 

Its  out  o'  sight,  the  moudiewark.' 

The  setting  of  the  tune  in  the  Museum  did  not  please  Burns.  He  recom- 
mended Thomson  to  publish  the  song,  and  said,  '  but  if  you  will  get  any  of  our 
ancienter  Scots  fiddlers  to  play  you  in  Strathspey  time  The  moudiewart — that  is 
the  name  of  the  air— I  think  it  will  delight  you.'  The  suggestion  was  ignored, 
and  Thomson  printed  the  song  to  Cold  and  raw.  The  music  in  the  text  is 
taken  from  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  8,  there  entitled  Scotch 
Gig.  It  differs  in  some  essentials  from  the  copy  in  the  Museum,  but  the  title 
which  Bums  gave  it  is  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances.  The  moudie- 
wart, or  mold  warp,  as  in  Shakespeare,  or  mole,  was  respected  by  the  Jacobites 
in  consequence  of  the  death  of  William  of  Orange,  caused  by  his  horse  stumbling 

on  a  mole-hill. 

* 

No.  190.  But  warily  tent  when  ye  come  to  court  me.  Scotish  Airs, 
1 799,  94.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  A  variation  of  the  first  two 
stanzas  was  supplied  to  Johnson,  and  printed  in  'fas  Museum, ^Q.  106,  of  which 
a  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  In  August,  1793,  Burns  wrote  to  Thomson : 
'  Is  Whistle  and  /'//  come  to  you,  my  lad  one  of  your  airs?  I  admire  it  much, 
and  yesterday  I  set  the  following  verses  to  it.  Urbani,  whom  I  have  met  with 
here,  begged  them  of  me,  as  he  admires  the  air  much  ;  but  as  I  understand  that 
he  looks  with  rather  an  evil  eye  on  your  work  I  did  not  choose  to  comply. 
However,  if  the  song  does  not  suit  your  taste,  I  may  possibly  send  it  to  him. 
He  is,  entre  nous,  a  narrow,  conceited  creature;  but  he  sings  so  delightfully, 
that  whatever  he  introduces  at  your  concert  must  have  immediate  celebrity.' 
Two  years  later,  while  under  the  influence  of  Jean  Lorimer,  Burns  asked 
Thomson  to  alter  the  last  line  of  every  stanza  to  read, '  Thy  Jeanie  will  venture 
wi'  ye  my  lad.'  Pietro  Urbani,  a  native  of  Milan,  was  a  vocalist  of  some 
eminence.  At  the  time  Burns  refers  to  him,  he  was  collecting  materials  £91 


416 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


a  Selection  of  Scots  Songs,  which  he  published  c.  1794.     He  ruined  himself  by 
orchestral  concerts  in  Edinburgh,  and  died  in  1816  in  poverty. 

The  chorus  of  the  song  is  in  the  Herd  MS. ;  the  unprinted  stanza  of  Burns's 
MS.  in  the  British  Museum  is  the  third  stanza  of  Song  No.  169  supra.  The 
tune,  an  excellent  specimen  of  natural  music,  fits  exactly  the  verses  of  Burns. 
O'Keefe  used  it  for  one  of  the  songs  in  his  opera,  The  Poor  Soldier,  1783. 
Burns  has  not  stated  that  he  knew  the  composer  of  the  air,  as  represented  by 
Stenhouse  and  others. 

No.  191.  O,  when  she  cam  ben,  she  bobbed  fu'  law.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  /y.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British-Museum.  An  old  song  in 
Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  _;//,  dressed  up  to  make  it  presentable.  Burns  wrote 
all  but  the  first  stanza,  and  the  first  two  lines  of  the  second  stanza.  Tradition 
reports  the  Laird  of  Cockpen  as  a  boon  companion  of  Charles  II. 

The  melody  has  been  continuously  popular  for  at  least  two  centuries.  It  is 
in  Leyderis  MS.  of  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century ;  in  Sin/tier's  MS.,  1 710. 
A  song  in  the  Tea- Table  Miscellany,  1724,  beginning  Come  Jill  me  a  bumper,  is 
directed  to  be  sung  to  the  tune  which  is  printed  in  Ramsay's  Musick,  1726  ;  in 
Oswald's  Curious  Collection,  1740,  40;  his  Companion,  1743,  i.  14  ;  Aird's  Airs, 
1782,  ii.  No.  80;  and  elsewhere  with  the  title  of  our  text.  See  the  note  on 
Song  No.  iji  supra. 

No.  192.  O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o*  the  mill  has  gotten  ?  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1803,  No.  566.  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  This  is 
the  original  version  which  Burns  wrote  for  the  Museum,  and  intended  for 
publication  in  the  fourth  volume.  When  he  was  on  the  point  of  sending  his 
verses  to  Johnson,  he  wrote  to  George  Thomson  (April,  1793),  saying, '  Do  you 
know  a  fine  air  called  Jackie  Hume's  lament  ?  I  have  a  song  of  considerable 
merit  to  that  air,  beginning,  "  O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill  has  gotten." 
I  enclose  you  both  the  song  and  the  tune,  as  I  had  them  ready  to  send  to 
Johnson's  Museum.'  It  was  not  at  all  the  kind  of  song  which  Thomson 
affected,  and  he  managed  to  induce  Burns  to  write  a  second  version,  although 
the  poet  at  first  declined,  and  said  that  the  song  as  it  was  pleased  him  so  much 
that  he  could  not  write  another  for  the  same  air.  Of  the  tune  Jackie  Hume"s 
lament,  Thomson  has  stated  that  it  is  the  same  air  as  0,  bonie  lass  will  ye 
lie  in  a  barrack.  I  have  not  found  Jackie  Humes  lament  in  any  collection, 
therefore  cannot  identify  it  with  the  tune  in  the  text  from  the  Museum. 

No.  193.  O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill,  &c.  Currie,  Works,  iv.  /</. 
This  is  the  second  version  of  the  preceding  song,  and  marked  for  the  air 
O,  bonie  lass  will  ye  lie  in  a  barrack.  It  contained  too  much  vernacular 
for  Thomson,  who  did  not  print  it  in  his  Scotish  Airs. 

The  tune,  0,  bonie  lass,  &c.,  is  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  80;  and  the 
complete  song  in  Napier's  Scots  Songs,  1792,  ii.  90,  with  the  following  as 
the  first  stanza : — 

*  O  say !    bonny  lass,  will  you  lie  in  a  barrack 
And  marry  a  soldier  and  carry  his  wallet; 
O  say !    wou'd  you  leave  baith  your  mither  and  daddie 
And  follow  the  camp  with  your  soldier  laddy?' 

No.  194.  Cauld  is  the  e'enin  blast.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803, 
No.  j8j.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  The  rechauffee  of  a  coarse 
ditty,  beginning : — 

'  Bonnie  Peggie  Ramsay  as  ony  man  may  see, 

Has  a  bonnie  sweet  face  and  a  gleg  glintin  e'e.' 

In  Durfey's  Pills,  1707,  is  also  a  coarse  but  different  song  of  the  same  name. 
Whoever  Peg  was,  she  had  a  wide  and  long  reputation  on  both  sides  of  the 
Border,  and  was  not  burdened  with  morals.  She  is  referred  to  in  Shakespeare's 
Twelfth  Night,  Act  2,  Sc.  3,  and  is  named  by  Tom  Nashe  in  The  Shepheard's 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS 


417 


Holiday  as  the  title  of  a  ballad  or  dance  tune.  In  England,  two  different 
melodies  served  for  numerous  ballads  of  the  Peg-a-Ramsay  class,  but  neither  is 
identical  with  that  of  Burns's  verses.  The  earliest  specimen  of  the  English 
melody  is  in  Ballet's  Lute  Book,  a  MS.  of  uncertain  date,  the  other  is  in  a  MS. 
by  Dr.  John  Bull,  entitled  Little  Pegge  of  Ramsie,  known  later  as  Watton 
Town's  End,  or  0,  London  is  a  fine  town,  in  the  Dancing  Master,  1665,  and 
with  the  song  in  Pills,  1719,  v.  139.  The  music  is  reprinted  in  Chappell's 
Popiilar  Music,  p.  218.  The  Scottish  tune  in  the  Museum,  1803,  with  Burns's 
som/  is  entirely  different  from  the  English  Air.  I  have  not  found  it  in  any 
earlier  music  book. 

No.  195.  The  taylor  he  cam  hera  to  sew.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  490.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  A  song  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 
1769, 318,  entitled  The  tailor  gave  only  a  bare  suggestion  to  Burns,  neither  the 
subject  nor  the  rhythm  being  identical  with  that  in  the  text.  In  the  MS. 
he  informs  the  editor  that  the  tune  The  Drummer  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782, 
i.  No.  229,  and  goes  on  to  instruct  him  as  follows  :  '  Only  remember  that  the 
second  part  of  the  tune,  as  Ami  has  set  it,  goes  here  to  the  first  part  of  the 
song;  and  of  course  Aird's  first  part  goes  to  the  chorus'  (R.  B.).  The  in- 
struction  was  carried  out  with  a  little  variation  from  the  melody  in  Aird,  which 
is  as  in  our  text.  The  music  is  also  in  Stewart's  Keels,  1762,  28,  and  Ross's 
Reels,  1780,^.2.  It  is  said  to  be  also  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances, 
c.  1741. 

No.  196.  O,  steer  her  up,  and  hand  her  gaun.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1803,  No.  504.  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  'Mr.  Burns's  old 
words'  (Law's  MS.  List}.  In  Ramsay's  Miscellany,  1725,  is  a  garbled  and 
disconnected  song  of  the  title,  which  Herd  copied  into  Sects  Sengs,  1 769,  181. 
Stenhouse  says  '  Ramsay  very  properly  suppressed  the  old  song,  enough  of 
which  is  still  well  known '  (^Illustrations,  p.  441}.  Barns  wrote  all  but  the  first 
four  lines,  and  put  it  wholly  in  Scottish  orthography. 

The  tune  Steer  her  up,  a  seventeenth  century  production,  is  said  to  be 
in  Guthrie^s  MS.  It  is  in  Playford's  Original  Sc'ots  Tunes,  1700;  Sinkler** 
MS.,  1710;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  7;  Oswald's  Companion,  1745,  ii. 
25  ;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  118.  The  first  half  of  Steer  her  up  is  in  the 
tune  Scerdustis  in  the  Skene  MS.,  c.  1630. 

No.  197.  What  can  a  young  lassie?  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  316,  signed  '  R,'  entitled  What  can  a  young  lassie  do  w?  an  auld  manl 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  In  Gray's  MS.  List—'  Mr.  B.— words.' 

A  variation  of  the  subject  of  the  song  is  four  liijes  in  the  Herd  MS.,  as  follows, 
now  printed  for  the  first  time : — 

'  Kiss  ye  Jean,  kiss  ye  Jean  ; — 
Never  let  an  auld  man  kiss  ye  Jean, 
An  auld  man's  nae  man  till  a  young  quean; — 
Never  let  an  auld  man  kiss  ye  Jean.' 

Holbein  made  a  wood-cut  of  this  very  old  episode  in  human  life  for  Erasmus'* 
Praise  of  folly.  There  is  an  English  ballad  on  the  subject  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  years  old.  The  earliest  copy  is  a  black  letter  broadside  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  entitled  '  The  young  woman  s  complaint,  or  a  caveat  to  all 
maids  to  have  a  care  how  'they  be  married  to  old  men.  The  tune  is  What 
should  a  young  woman  do  with  an  old  man,  drv.,  or  The  Tyrant.  London, 
printed  for  W.  Gilbertson  in  Giltspur  Street  Without  Newgate.'  It  is  referred 
to  in  a  medley  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719.  This  street  ballad  is  better  than  the 
average  of  the  rhyming  literature  of  the  flying  stationers.  I  cannot  identify 
the  English  melody  or  its  alternative  The  Tyrant,  but  it  is  not  at  all  likely 
to  be  the  tune  in  the  text,  which  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  /,  and 
for  which  Burns  wrote  his  song. 

E  e 


418 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Dr.  Blacklock  had  written  a  long  ballad  for  the  tune,  about  which  Burns 
made  the  following  remark  on  the  MS.  of  his  own  song  to  the  editor  of  the 
Museum  :  '  Set  the  tune  to  these  words.  Dr.  B.'s  set  of  the  tune  is  bad ;  I  here 
enclose  a  better.  You  may  put  Dr.  B.'s  song  after  these  verses,  or  you  may 
leave  it  out  as  you  please.'  The  editor  rejected  Blacklock's  ballad. 

No.  198.  Awa  wi*  your  witchcraft  o*  beauty's  alarms.  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1799,  200.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air, 
Balinamona  Ora.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson  collection.  From  August, 
1795  to  January,  1796  is  a  blank  in  Burns's  correspondence.  At  the  request  of 
Thomson  he  resumes  his  work.  Verses  were  wanted  for  Irish  airs,  and  in 
sending  the  present  song  Burns,  in  February,  repeats  what  he  has  done  in  this 
way.  '  I  strung  up  a  kind  of  rhapsody  to  another  Hibernian  melody  which 
I  admire  much  ...  If  this  will  do,  you  have  now  four  of  my  Irish  engage- 
ments— Humours  of  Glen,  Captain  0' Kean,  Oonaghs  Waterfall,  and  Balina- 
mona? In  a  line  he  disposes  of  his  former  ideal,  Jean  Lorimer :  '  In  my 
by-past  songs,  I  dislike  one  thing,  the  name  Chloris.'  There  is  a  reminiscence 
of  Allan  Ramsay's  '  Gie  me  a  lass  wi'  a  lump  o'  land  '  in  the  present  song^p. 

The  tune  Balinamona  is  in  Thumoth's  English  and  Irish  Airs,  c.  1760,  26 ; 
in  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  loj  ;  and  Calliope,  London,  1788,  256. 
L  was  a  popular  air  at  public  concerts  in  London  during  the  last  half  of 
the  eighteenth  century. 

No.  199.  Had  I  the  wyte.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  41 ;, 
signed  '  Z.'  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  version  in  the  Merry 
Muses  is  slightly  different.  The  chorus  and  a  stanza  which  Burns  did  not 
use  are  in  Herd's  MS.  The  tune  can  be  traced  to  near  the  beginning  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  it  is  plain  that  it  was  sung  to  some  other  song  besides 
the  present  class.  Apparently  an  earlier  original  in  Ramsay's  Miscellany, 
1724,  My  Jocky  blyth  for  what  thou  hast  done  is  marked  for  Come  kiss 
•with  me,  come  clap  with  me.  The  tune  is  in  Ramsay's  Mustek,  c.  1*726,  and 
with  Ramsay's  verses  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  39.  In  Oswald's 
Companion,  c.  1755,  vii.  20  there  is  an  additional  strain,  and  the  title  for  the 
first  time  is  Had  /  the  wale  she  bade  me.  In  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  20, 
it  bears  the  TMXS&  Highland  Hills,  the  same  as  that  named  in  the  Merry  Muses. 
In  Ross's  Reels,  1780,  9,  it  is  called  Mason  laddie',  lastly,  Gow  in  his  third 
collection  of  Reels  names  it  the  Bob  of  Fettercairn.  The  popularity  of  this 
gay  attractive  melody  is  by  no  means  exhausted.  In  Northumbrian  Minstrelsy^ 
1882,  ij6,  a  collection  of  Northumbrian  tunes  published  by  the  Newcastle 
Society  of  Antiquaries,  there  is  a  bad  setting  of  it  entitled  Newburn  lads,  and 
it  is  still  played  on  the  small  pipes  in  Northumberland.  I  heard  it  the  other  day 
ground  out  of  a  barrel  organ  in  the  streets  of  Newcastle,  preceded  and  followed 
by  airs  from  the  newest  operas.  The  foreign  artist  who  turned  the  handle 
knew  it  as  a  Scotch  tune. 

No.  200.  Gat  ye  me,  O,  gat  ye  me.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  430,  entitled  The  lass  of  Ecdefechan.  '  The  MS.  incomplete  is  in  the 
British  Museum,  entitled  Lucky  Laing '  (R.  B.).  A  copy,  with  the  exception 
of  alterations  in  the  second  four  lines,  is  in  the  Merry  Muses  marked  for  the  tune 
Jacky  Latin ;  the  following  is  the  first  stanza  and  chorus  of  a  song  of  uncertain 
age:— 


'  Bonie  Jockie,  braw  Jockie, 

Bonie  Jocky  Latin, 
Because  she  wudna  gie  'm  a  kiss, 
His  heart  was  at  the  breaking. 


Bonie  Jockie,  braw  Jockie, 

Bonie  Jockie  Latin, 
His  skin  was  like  the  silk  sae  fine, 

And  mine  was  like  the  satin.' 


This  capital  pipe  tune,  as  Jack  Latin,  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
c.  1759,  xii.  6;  in  McGibbon's  Scots  7unes,  1768,7/0;  and  McLean's  Scots 
Tunes,  c.  1772,  2j.  It  is  still  a  favourite  in  Northumberland,  where  it  is  known 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS 


419 


I 


z&Jacky  Ley f on.  The  English  tune  Jack  a  Lent,  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master, 
1670,  has  no  resemblance  to  the  present  air,  but  it  is  also  a  pipe  melody.  The 
earliest  known  ballad  of  Jack  of  Lent  was  written  in  1625  to  welcome  Queen 
Henrietta  Maria.  A  copy  is  in  Choyce  Drollery,  1656,  20.  In  early  times 
Jack  a  Lent  was  a  stuffed  puppet.  The  origin  of  the  effigy  is  obscure,  but 
most  likely  it  was  set  up  in  ridicule  of  the  monks.  The  game  survives  in  the 
present  day  as  Aunt  Sally. 

No.  201.  Last  May  a  braw  wooer.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  52. 
'  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.' — Air,  The  Lothian  Lassie  (Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  522].  A  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson  collection. 
Burns  has  hit  off  in  a  ludicrous  and  veracious  manner  a  particular  trait  of  the 
Scottish  character.  The  apparent  coldness  of  the  people  is  effected  by  a 
simulated  repression  of  the  affections.  No  one  has  yet  undertaken  a  psycho- 
logical criticism  of  the  Scot  on  historical  principles.  The  sober  dour  Scot  has 
strong  human  sympathies,  but  the  spring  is  deep,  and  an  earthquake  is  some- 
times required  to  make  them  flow.  The  style  of  the  present  song  is  original ; 
thjye  were  verses  on  the  same  subject,  not  devoid  of  merit,  but  much  inferior  to 
those  of  Burns.  The  first  stanza  of  The  Lothian  Lassie  begins  as  follows : — 

'The  Queen  o'  the  Lothians  cam  cruisin  to  Fife,  V«. 

Fal  de  ral,  lal  de  ral,  lairo, 
To  see  gin  a  wooer  wad  tak  her  for  life, 
Sing  hey  fal  de  ral,'  &c. 

A  wooer  does  turn  up,  but  he  is  bashful,  and  cannot  muster  sufficient  courage 
to  speak  to  Jenny.  He  solicits  an  aunt  of  the  fair  one  to  be  the  go-between,  and 
she,  with  a  natural  faculty  for  matchmaking,  soon  arranges  the  business. 
When  Jenny  appears  the  swain  loses  courage,  runs  away,  but  is  brought  forcibly 
back  still  blushing.  Jenny  being  a  person  of  considerable  perspicuity,  thinks 
the  best  way  is  to  accept  the  offer  promptly,  lest  the  lover  after  consideration 
should  change  his  mind. 

'  The  question  was  spier'd,  and  the  bargain  was  struck 
The  neighbours  cam  in,  and  wished  them  good  luck.' 

Before  forwarding  Last  May  a  braw  wooer  Burns  sent  to  Thomson  in  May  or 
June,  1795,  The  Lothian.  Lassie,  with  a  letter,  saying:  'The  song  is  well 
known,  but  was  never  in  notes  before.  The  first  part  is  the  old  tune.  It 
is  a  great  favourite  of  mine.  I  think  it  would  make  a  fine  Andante  ballad/ 
Here  Burns  refers  to  the  music.  The  immediate  success  of  the  song  published 
by  Thomson  caused  Johnson  to  insert  it  in  the  Museum,  1803,  No.  522,  with 
some  alterations  for  the  worse  which  Stenhouse  pretended  were  authorized 
by  Burns.  Whether  or  not  he  sent  to  Johnson  a  copy  of  the  words  of  Last 
May  a  braw  wooer,  it  is  certain  from  a  MS.  which  I  have  seen,  that  he 
furnished  Johnson  through  Clarke  with  a  copy  of  the  tune,  which  was  first 
printed  with  his  words  in  1 799-  Some  parts  of  the  air  have  a  strong  resemblance 
fo  Kellyburn  braes,  No.  331  infra. 

No.  202.  "Wantonness  for  evermair.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  422  ;  Centenary  edition,  1897,  "i-  X54'  '  This  bagatelle  was  written  and 
communicated  by  Burns  to  the  Museum  '  (Stenhouse,  Illustrations,  p.  779). 

This  excellent  melody,  with  the  precise  title  of  the  first  line  of  the  verses,  is  in 
Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  443,  and  the  title  indicates  that  a  song  existed  before 
Burns  wrote  his  stanza,  if  it  is  not  a  corrected  verse  of  the  song  itself.  Wanton- 
ness was  a  favourite  character  with  the  Scottish  poets,  Dunbar,  Lindsay,  and 
Gavin  Douglas,  in  their  dramas  and  interludes  of  the  early  part  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 

No.  203.  The  robin  cam  to  the  wren's  nest.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  406,  entitled  The  wren's  nest  (Scott-Douglas  edition,  1877,  \\\.acj6}. 

£62 


420  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

The  original  of  this  stanza  is  a  nursery  rhyme  long  known  in  the  west  of 
Scotland.  On  the  Museum  MS.  Clarke,  the  musical  editor,  wrote,  « The  tune 
is  only  a  bad  set  of  Johnny's  grey  breeks.  I  took  it  down  from  Mrs.  Burns's 
singing.  There  are  more  words  I  believe.  You  must  apply  to  Burns ' ;  to  which 
Johnson,  the  publisher,  replied,"'  there  are  no  more  words'  (Stenhouse,  Jlhistra- 
tions,  p.  j6j}.  The  following  verses  are  the  last  stanzas  of  a  song  in"  Herd's 
Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  167: — 


*  Now  in  there  came  my  Lady  WREN, 

With  mony  a  sigh  and  a  groan  ; 
O  what  care  I  for  a'  the  lads, 
If  my  wee  lad  be  gone  ? 


Then  ROBIN  turned  him  round  about, 

E'en  like  a  little  king  : 
Go,  pack  ye  out  at  my  chamber  door, 

Ye  little  cutty  quean.' 


The  wren,  for  some  unknown  reason,  has  been  long  known  in  Scottish 
poetry.  In  the  fifteenth  century  a  popular  poem  was  entitled  How  the  wren  cam 
out  of  Ailsa.  Gavin  Douglas  in  the  Palace  of  Honour,  written  in  1501, 
enumerates  some  tales  and  ballads  then  current.  Thus  : — 

'  I  saw  Rauf  Colyear  with  his  thrawin  brow, 
Craibit  John  the  Keif,  and  auld   Cowkelbie1  s  sow ; 
And  how  the  tvrdn  came  out  of  A  Us  say 
And  Piers  Plewman  that  made  his  workmen  fow; 
Greit  Gowmakmorne  and  Fyn  Makowl,  and  how  . 
They  suld  be  goddis  in  Ireland  as  they  say ; 
Then  saw  I  Maitland  upon  attld  Beird  Gray; 
Robene  ffude,  and   Gilbert  with  the  white  hand, 
How  Hay  of  Nauchtan  flew  in  Madin  land.' 

(Douglas's  Works ;  1874,  i.  6j^ 
«   The  tune  has  no  history,  and  can  be  compared  with  No.  67  supra. 

*No.  204.  Lassie,  lend  me  your  braw  hemp-heckle.  '  The  Bob  o* 
Dumblane  remains  to  be  added  in  your  fifth  volume.  Take  it  from  the  Orpheus 
Caledonius :  if  you  have  not  this  book  I  will  send  you  a  reading  of  it.  At  the 
end  of  this  set  (Ramsay's)  let  the  old  words  follow'  (Burns  to  Johnson,  1795"). 
In  Gray's  MS.  Lists  Burns  wrote  against  the  title  of  the  song  '  Mr.  Burns's 
old  words.'  The  following  note  is  not  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  as  quoted  in 
Cromek's  R cliques-,  1808,  joj,  and  it  is  given  with  reservation:  'Ramsay,  as 
usual,  has  modernised  this  song.  The  original,  which  I  learned  on  the  spot 
from  my  old  hostess  in  the  principal  inn  there  (Dunblane),  is,'  as  in  the  text. 
Neither  the  tune  nor  the  '  old '  words  of  Burns  were  inserted  in  the  Museum,  and 
this  is  the  first  time  both  have  been  brought  together.  Ramsay's  words, 
referred  to.  by  Burns,  are  in  his  Miscellany >  1724,  reprinted  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 
1769,  42-.  and  with  the  tune,  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  45,  which 
is  not  the  same  as  Lord  Bredalbane'1  s  March  often  confused  with  it,  for  which  see 
Song  No.  ijo.  With  the  exception  of  the  first  two  lines,  Burns's  verses  are 
different  from  the  song  in  the  Orpheus. 

No.  205.  My  daddie  was  a  fiddler  fine.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  4H\  Centenary  Burns,  1897,  iii.  166.  This  is  the  chorus,  and  first  of 
three  stanzas  in  the  Merry  Muses,  of  a  clever  and  witty  song  revised  by  Burns 
which  cannot  be  further  quoted. 

The  tune  entitled  Stumpie  is  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  44.  The  same 
subject,  as  near  as  possible,  is  Lady  Betty  V/emyss"  Reel,  in  Bremner's  Reels, 
1757,  21.  Stenhouse  says  it  was  formerly  called  Jocky  has  gotten  a  wife,  but  I 
cannot  find  the  music  under  this  name.  Mr.  Glen.states  that  it  is  titled  Butter1  d 
pease  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances,  c.  1734. 

No.  206.  There's  news,  lasses,  news.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803, 
No.  jSy,  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  Scott-Douglas  edition, 
iii.  298.  An  old  song  remodelled,  and  only  remarkable  in  the  last  stanza 


III.     LOVE-SONGS  :     HUMOROUS 


421 


for  a  vernacular  description  of  the  duties  of  a  ploughman  in  the  south  of 
Scotland.  The  original  is  a  fragment  of  eight  lines  in  Herd's  MS.,  beginning : — 

'  Newes,  lasses,  nevves, 

Gude  newes  I  hae  to  tell ; 
There 's  a  boat  fu'  o'  young  men 
Come  to  our  town  to  sell.1 

The  title  of  the  tune  in  Burns's  hand  is  in  the  Gray  MS.  The  first  half  is  the 
first  subject  of  Captain  Mackenzie's  Reel  in  Stewart's  Reels,  1762, 36.  The  air 
was  sung  to  a  metrical  satire  on  the  ladies  of  Edinburgh,  entitled  The  vain 
guidwife,  printed  in  Sharpe's  Ballad  Book,  1824. 

*Wo.  207.  O,  Galloway  Tarn  cam  here  to  woo.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  j.2f  and  marked  in  Law's  MS.  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words/  who  intended 
the  fragment  to  precede  one  of  Dr.  Blacklock's  songs  for  the  Museum  for  the 
same  tune.  In  1810  Cromek  printed  the  lines  with  an  additional  stanza  of 
palpable  modern  construction,  which,  however,  he  alleged  to  be  old  and  part  of 
the  song. 

The  following  Note  by  Robert  Riddell  is  in  the  Interleaved  Museum,  and  it 
is  not  in  Burns's  handwriting  as  pretended  by  Cromek  :  '  I  have  seen  an  inter- 
lude (acted  at  a  wedding)  to  this  tune  called  The  wooing  of  the  maiden. 
These  entertainments  are  now  much  worn  out  in  this  part  of  Scotland.  Two 
are  still  retained  in  Nithsdale,  viz. :  Silly  pure  auld  Glenae,  and  this  one,  The 
wooing  of  the  maiderf  :  (Reliques,  1808,  295}.  The  tune  is  in  Atkinson's  MS., 
1694,  and  Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  25.  In  a  common  measure  O'er  the 
hills  and  far  away  resembles  it. 

*No.  208.  The  Collier  has  a  dochter.  This  fragment  of  eight  lines  is  in 
the  Interleaved  Museum,  and  may  be  entitled  in  his  own  way  '  Mr.  Burns's 
old  words.'  The  note  of  Burns  is  correctly  quoted  by  Cromek  \\\Reliques,  219  :  — 
'  The  first  half  stanza  is  much  older  than  the  days  of  Ramsay '  whose  song 
is  in  his  Miscellany,  1724;  and  with  the  tune  in  Johnson's  Museum,  1787, 
No.  47. 

Burns  wrote  two  original  songs  for  The  Colliers  bonie  lassie,  for  which  see 
Nos.  44  and  2^2. 


IV.    CONNUBIAL. 

No.  209.  First  when  Maggie  was  my  care.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  249,  signed  X.,  entitled  Whistle  o'er  the  lave  ot.  'Mr.  Burns's  old 
words'  (Law's  MS.  List].  Burns  got  the  title  of  this  from  a  song  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  The  lords  of  creation  in  Scotland  were  no  better  than 
their  sex  elsewhere.  They  were  never  so  good  as  to  be  able  to  dispense  with  the 
discipline  of  married  life.  It  has  not  been  ascertained  to  whom  Burns  referred 
in  this  song.  In  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  316,  are  the  two  following  stanzas 
for  the  tune  : — 


'  My  mither  sent  me  to  the  well, 
She  had  better  gane  hersell, 

I  got  the  thing  I  dare  nae  tell, 
Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't. 


*  My  mither  sent  me  to  the  sea, 
For  to  gather  mussels  three ; 
A  sailor  lad  fell  in  wi'  me, — 
Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't.' 


This  is  styled  one  of  the  malignant  songs  in  Scotch  Presbyterian  Eloquence 
of  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  tune  Whistle  ower  the  lave  o't  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1759, 56.  It  varies 
a  little  from  the  copy  in  the  Museum.  It  is  also  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion^ 1759,  xii.  ij.  C.  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe  incorrectly  stated  that  Dance  Katie 


422  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Bairdie  of  the  seventeenth  century  is  the  same  tune.  He  retails  a  traditional 
story  of  a  pedestrian  who,  crossing  Glasgow  churchyard  one  moonshine  night, 
saw  the  Devil  and  a  male  acquaintance  who  had  recently  died  dancing  round 
the  tombstone  of  the  dead  man,  his  majesty  playing  on  the  fiddle  Whistle  o'er 
the  lave  o't.  Another  proof,  if  any  were  wanted,  that  the  devil  knows  and 
appreciates  good  music.  The  tune  is  said  to  be  in  Blaikie's  MS.,  1692,  which 
is  not  improbable.  According  to  Burns,  John  Bruce,  a  Highland  fiddler  who 
lived  in  Dumfries,  composed  the  air  about  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  (See  Letter  to  Thomson,  Oct.  1794.) 

No.  210.  O,  some  will  court  and  compliment.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  305,  entitled  John,  come  kiss  me  now,  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words,' 
(Law's  MS.  List}.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  A  fragment  of  eight 
lines  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  jij  was  the  model  of  BurnS's  verses.  The" 
tenacity  of  life  in  a  popular  song  is  illustrated  here,  for  the  tune  and  verses 
have  been  in  continuous  use  for  the  last  350  years.  A  parody  of  twenty- 
six  stanzas  is  in  the  Gude  and  Godlie  Ballads,  1567,  and  it  is  an  example 
of  a  Reformation  song  referred  to  in  the  note  on  No.  212.  The  first  four  lines 
of  Herd  begin  this  early  song,  and  two  other  stanzas  of  the  religious  imitation 
may  serve  as  a  specimen  : — 


'  The  Lord  thy  God  I  am 
That  Johne  dois  the  call ; 

Johne  representit  man, 
Be  grace  celestiall, 


'  My  prophetis  call,  my  preichouris  cry, 

Johne,  cum  kis  me  now, 
Johne,  cum  kis  me  by  and  by, 

And  mak  no  moir  adow.' 


It  is  remarkable  that  no  verses  of  John,  come  kiss  me  now  have  been  found  in 
England,  although  the  tune  has  been  preserved  there.  Numerous  references 
are  made  to  the  latter  in  English  literature,  but  always  as  a  dance.  In  A 
woman  killed  with  kindness,  1600,  Sisly  says  '  I  love  no  dance  so  well  zs  John, 
come  kiss  me  now?  In  Burton's  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  (1621)  1893,  iii.  180, 
is  '  Yea',  many  times  this  love  will  make  old  men  and  women  that  have  more 
toes  than  teeth,  dance  John,  come  kiss  me  now.'  In  'Tis  merry  when  gossips 
meet,  1609,  is  said  '  Such  store  of  ticking  galliards  I  do  vow  ;  not  an  old  dance, 
but  John,  come  kiss  me  now?  In  a  song  in  Westminster  Drollery ',  1671,  </$>, 
beginning  *  My  name  is  honest  Harry '  is  the  following  verse  : — 

'  The  fiddlers  shall  attend  us, 

And  first  play,  John,  come  kiss  me ; 

And  when  that  we  have  danced  a  round, 

They  shall  play,  Hit  or  misse  me' 

In  Philips'  Don  Quixote,  1687,  is  said  'all  naturally  singing  Walsingham, 
and  whistling,  John,  come  kiss  me  now?  A  copy  of  the  music  is  in  the 
Fitzwilliam  Virginal  Book  c.  1650,  with  a  number  of  variations  composed  by 
Will.  Byrd.  But  in  an  earlier  book  of  MS.  Airs  and  Sonnets  at  Trinity 
College,  Dublin  (F.  5.  13,  pp.  55  and  56)  is  the  tune  with  variations  of  a  song 
of  thirteen  stanzas  in  the  Scottish  phraseology  of  the  sixteenth  century.  I  copy 
the  tune  and  the  verses,  now  both  printed  for  the  first  time : — 


B-b 

^  r 

»  a  ^N 

|7    [?   0    .     a 

1  f  f  P 

J  —  r^'  ^  .  —  j- 

-f  —  f  —  a 

/•^  • 

1          ^  , 

r 

1 


.'Jon, 
Jon, 


,  come  kisse  me  now,  now,  Jon,  come  kisse  me  now 
come  kisse  me  by  and  by  and  mak  no  mor  adoe. 
His  answer  to  yt  sam  toone 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


423 


Peace,  I'm  angrie  now,  now ;  Peace,  I'm  angrie  now, 
Peace  I'm  angrie  at  the  hert,  and  knows  not  what  to  doe, 
Wyfes  can  faine  and  wyfes  can  flatter :  have  I  not  hitt  them  now, 
When  once  they  beginn  they  still  do  clatter  :  &  soe  doeth  my  wyf  too. 
Wyfes  are  good  and  wyfes  are  bad  :  have  I  not,  etc. 
Wyfes  can  mak  their  husbands  mad  :  &  so  doe,  etc. 

Wyfes  can  sport  and  wyfes  can  play  :   have  I  not,  etc. 

And  with  little  work  passe  over  the  day :  &  so,  etc. 

Wyfes  hes  many  fine  words  &  looks  :  have  I  not,  etc. 

And  draw  sillie  men  on  folies  hooks :  and  soe,  etc. 

Wyfes  will  not  their  meeting  misse  :  have  I  not,  etc. 

A  cup  of  sack  they  can  well  kisse  :  and  so,  etc. 

Wyfes  can  dance  and  wyfes  can  lowp  :  have  I  not,  etc. 

Wyfes  can  toome  the  full  wyne  stowp :  and  soe,  etc. 

Wyfes  can  ban  and  wyfes  can  curse  :  have  I  not,  etc. 

Wyfes  can  toome  their  husbands  purse  :  and  so,  etc. 

Wyfes  can  flyte  and  wyfes  can  scold  :  have  I  not,  etc. 

Wyfes  of  ther  toungs  they  have  no  hold  :  and  none  has  myne,  etc. 

W7yfes  they'r  good  than  at  no  tym :  neither  is  my  wyf  now ; 

Except  it  be  in  drinking  wyn  :  and  so  is  my  wyf  too. 

Some  they  are  right  needfull  evills :  so  is  my  wyfe  now  ; 

Wyfes  are  nothing  elss  but  divles  :  and  so  my  wyf  too. 

Now  of  my  song  I  make  ane  end  :  etc. 

All  such  wyfs  to  the  divell  I  send  :  amongst  them  my  wyf  too. 

Peace  I'm  angrie  now,  now  :  Peace  I'm  angrie  now, 

Peace  I'm  angrie  at  the  hert,  and  cannot  tell  qt  to  dow.* 

A  somewhat  licentious  parody  on  the  above  is  in  Merry  Drollerie,  1670,^02, 
which  is  reprinted  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  iv.  181.  Neither  the  verses  nor  the 
tune  have  any  reference  to  John  come  kiss  me  now. 

The  Dublin  MS.  lettered  Airs  and  Sonnets  is  curiously  enough  a  part  of 
Wood's  Scottish  MSS.  of  Psalm  and  Hymn  Tunes,  1566 — 1578,  and  it  contains 
the  earliest  specimen  of  secular  music  written  in  Scotland.  According  to  David 
Laing  the  secular  songs  and  music  are,  however,  not  earlier  than  1620.  The 
sacred  music,  or  Wood's  portion  in  the  Dublin  volume,  bears  the  title :  "  This  is 
the  fyft  Btike  addit  to  the  four  psalme  Bukkis  for  songs  of  four  or  fyve  pairtis 
.  .  .  1569,'  and  ends  on  page  33.  Then  follows  a  considerable  number  of  Airs 
and  Sonnets — *  Which  are  all  notted  heir  with  the  Tennor  or  common  pairt 
they  are  sung  with.' 

As  bearing  on  the  nationality  of  the  air,  we  have  the  curious  fact  that  there 
was  a  song  popular  in  Scotland  about  1560,  probably  that  above  quoted,  and  a 
fragment  traditionally  handed  down  and  printed  in  1769,  while  in  England, 
the  tune  never  had  words  attached  to  it.  William  Chappell  in  Popular  Music, 
p.  147,  could  not  find  words,  and  printed  with  the  air  a  stanza  from  the  Godlie 
Ballads.  The  old  form  of  the  music  consisted  of  one  measure  ;  the  second  part 
was  added  about  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  tune  in  our  text  is 
from  the  seventh  edition,  1674,  of  Playford's  Introduction  to  the  Skill  of  Music  k, 
London,  first  printed  in  1654.  The  music  is  also  in  Blaikies  MS.  1692  ; 
Sinklers  MS.  1710;  Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  2;  McGibbon's  Scots 
Tunes,  1768,  iv.  94;  and  printed  for  the  first  time  with  words  in  the  Scots 
Miisical  Museum,  1792,  No.  joj.  Burns  directed  the  publisher  for  the  music 
to  McGibbon's  Collection. 

No.  211.  There  was  a  wife  wonn'd  in  Cockpen.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1803,  No.  /j$>,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Scroggam.  'Written  for  this  work  by 


424  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Robert  Burns,'  to  preserve  the  melody  of  an  old  song.  Stenhouse  records 
'  There  is  another,  and  a  very  old  song,  to  the  same  air,  but  it  is  quite  inad- 
missible.'  I  can.  find  no  record  of  the  very  old  song  with  the  rhythm.  The 
ale-wife  of  Cockpen  is  a  good  match  for  the  laird  of  Song  No.  191.  He  may 
have  been  a  customer,  -and  indulged  himself  in  singing  at  her  board  his  favourite 
song  of  Brose  and  butter. 

I  have  not  found  the  tune  Scroggam  before  its  appearance  in  the  Museum. 
It  is  not  composed  on  the  lines  of  the  old  Scottish  scales,  the  major  sixths  and 
sevenths  of  the  modern  minor  scale  being  rarely,  if  at^all,  used  in  antique, 
Scottish  melodies. 

Wo.  212.  John  Anderson  my  jo,  John.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1/90, 
No.  260,  signed  '  B.'  In  MS.  List — *  Mr.  Burns' s  old  words,' and  in  the  Interleaved 
Museum, '  This  Song  is  mine.'  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1 799,^7,  with  additional 
spurious  stanzas,  first  printed  in  Brash  and  Reid's  Chap-book,  1796.  Dr.  Currie, 
in  Works,  1800,  iv.  302,  published  the  correct  words  and  warned  the  public 
against  the  spurious  stanzas,  but  in  many  editions  of  Burns  they  are  still 
inserted  as  part  of  the  original  song. 

In  Percy's  Reliques,  1765,  are  printed  two  curious  stanzas,  entitled  John 
Anderson  my  jo. — A  Scotish  song.  The  verses  are  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue 
between  a  man  and  a  woman,  and  the  matter  is  more  provocative  of  family 
discord  than  connubial  bliss.  The  woman  begins  : — 

'  John  Anderson  my  jo,  cum  in  as  ye  gae  bye, 
and  ye  sail  get  a  sheip's  heid  weel  baken  in  a  pye ; 
Weel  baken  in  a  pye,  and  the  hag'gis  in  a  pat ; 
John  Anderson  my  jo,  cum  in,  and  ze's  get  that.' 

She  informs  the  man  on  inquiry  that  she  has  five  bairns,  but  three  of  them 
are  not  the  guidman's.  Jn  subsequent  editions  of  Percy's  Reliques,  the  five 
bairns  are  turned  into  seven — two  legitimate,  and  five  illegitimate— most  likely 
to  round  off  the  pretty  invention  that  the  verses  are  an  allegory  on  the  Romish 
sacraments.  The  authority  for  the  verses  was  not  given.  In  the  Bishop's 
preface  to  his  fourth  edition  it  is  said  '  where  any  variation  occurs  from  the 
former  impression  it  will  be  understood  to  have  been  given  on  the  authority  of 
that  MS.'  This  statement  caused  an  infinity  of  trouble  until  it  was  discovered 
that  very  many  pieces  in  the  Reliques,  includingyb^w  Anderson  my  jo,  are  not 
in  the  MS.  at  all.  The  invention  of  the  sacramental  allegory  gave  an  historical 
reputation  to  a  tradition  which  has  continued  to  circulate  ever  since.  Percy 
probably  knew  Haile's  specimens  of  the  Gude  and  Godlie  Ballads,  1 765 ;  but 
no  song  like  John  Anderson  my  jo  is  there,  nor  in  the  complete  collection  since 
published.  Percy  is  responsible  for  saying  that  the  song  is  as  old  as  the 
Reformation,  and  that  his  verses  are  a  satire  on  the  Church  of  Rome.  It  may 
be  so,  but  there  is  no  historical  evidence.  I  may  here  remark  that  the  description 
'  old  words '  which  Burns  gave  to  many  of  his  songs  was  very  elastic.  In  the 
case  of  John  Anderson  my  jo  he  adopted  only  the  title  or  first  line  of  the  song, 
the  rest  is  entirely  original ;  and  the  subject  has  nothing  in  common  with  the 
verses  '  sung  by  the  choice  spirits '  of  the  eighteenth  century.  In  that  curious 
surreptitious  small  volume  known  as  the  Merry  Muses  is  the  'old'  song 
beginning  : — 


'  John  Anderson  my  jo,  John, 
I  wonder  what  you  mean, 
To  lie  sae  lang  i'  the  mornin 
And  sit  sae  late  at  e'en  ? 


Ye'll  blear  a'  your  een,  John, 


And  why  do  ye  so  / 
Come  sooner  to  your  bed  at  e'en 
John  Anderson,  my  jo.' 


The  complete  song  in  Richardson's  Masque,  c.  1770, 292,  cannot  be  repeated 
here.  I  know  of  no  other  Scottish  song  than  this  one  answering  to  the  title. 
For  further  light  on  the  subject,  see  Note  224.  Other  three  songs  marked 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


425 


for  the  tune  are  in  the  Merry  Muses,  one  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724, 
and  another  beginning  When  I  was  a  wee  thing,  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776, 
ii.  21}  ;  but  none  of  them  have  any  reference  to  John  Anderson  my  jo.  That  a 
much  earlier  song  did  exist  is  proved  from  the  music  books. 

The  tune  entitled  John  Andersonne  my  jo  is  in  the  Skene  MS.  c.  1630;  also 
with  Ramsay's  words  in  Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1731,  vi.  202;  Oswald's 
Companion,  1752,  iv.  22  ;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  i6j. 

The  melody  of  two  English  songs — Pattl's  Steeple  and  /  am  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk  —belonging  to  the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  claimed  to  be 
the  original  oijohn  Anderson  my  jo,  but  the  music  in  English  collections  is 
not  found  earlier  than  the  Dancing  Master,  1651.  The  following  is  taken  from 
a  translation  of  the  Skene  MS. 


For  further  information  on  the  English  melody  see  Chappell's  Popular  Music, 
p.  117. 

It  is  necessary  to  enter  a  warning  against  the  following  remark  on  John 
Anderson  my  jo  by  Bishop  Percy  in  his  R  cliques.  '  It  is  a  received  tradition 
in  Scotland  that  at  the  time  of  the  Reformation  ridiculous  and  obscene 
songs  were  composed  to  be  sung  by  the  rabble  to  the  tunes  of  the  most  favourite 
hymns  in  the  Latin  Service.  Green  Sleeves  and  pudding  pies  is  said  to  have  been 
one  of  these  metamorphosed  hymns ;  Maggy  Lauder  was  another ;  John 
Anderson  my  jo  was  a  third.  The  original  music  of  all  these  burlesque  sonnets 
was  very  fine.'  This  is  a  most  confused  and  misleading  statement.  There  is 
not  an  example  of  a  hymn  tune  or  a  tune  'of  the  most  favourite  hymns  in  the 
Latin  Service  '  to  be  found  in  Scotland  in  connexion  with  a  secular  song.  The 
three  titles  named  are  secular  airs,  and  none  are  known  to  have  been  used  for 
the  purpose  named.  It  is  ridiculous  to  speak  of  the  very  fine  original  music 
of  these  '  sonnets '  in  the  past  tense.  All  were  very  popular  and  well  known  in 
Percy's  time,  and  they  are  well  known  now  as  secular  folk  tunes  with  secular 
words.  What  was  done  in  Scotland  was  to  imitate  every  European  country, 
including  England.  Religious  parodies  of  secular  songs  were  written  for 
popular  secular  airs,  and  these  '  sangs,'  mixed  up  with  hymns  and  psalms,  are 
preserved  in  the  collection  known  as  The  Gude  and  Godlie  Ballads.  In  the 
whole  song  and  dance  music  of  Scotland  only  one  melody  called  Cumnock 
Psalms  (see  No.  260,  and  that  was  collected  by  Burns  from  tradition)  can 
by  any  stretch  of  the  imagination  have  any  connexion  with  the  church  tunes. 
The  offensive  epithet  applied  by  Percy  to  the  songs  is  not  warranted.  '  The 
paipe  that  pagane  full  of  pryde,'  which  casts  spirited  ridicule  on  the  morals  of 
the  priests,  is  the  most  plain  spoken,  but  scarcely  deserves  the  epithet. 

No.  213.  "Willie  Wastle  dwalt  on  Tweed.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  376,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  Sic  a  ^vife  as  Willie  had.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  The  verses  are  unrivalltd  as  a  vernacular  pen  and  ink 
portrait  of  one  who  had  not  a  single  point  of  physical  beauty  to  recommend 
her.  A  recent  writer  in  the  public  press  indentifies  Linkumdoddie  as  five  and  a 
half  miles  from  Broughton  on  the  road  to  Tweedsmuir  and  Moffat.  On  the 


426  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

opposite  bank  of  the  Tweed,  where  a  hill  stream  called  Logan  Water  runs  into 
the  Tweed,  stood  a  thatched  cottage  called  Linkumdoddie,  which  disappeared 
forty  years  ago.  At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  a  weaver  called  Gideon 
Thomson  lived  there,  but  nothing  is  known  of  his  wife.  This  story  has  not  been 
verified,  but  it  may  be  remarked  that  Burns  knew  the  locality,  and  more  than 
once  stayed  at  the  Crook  Inn,  a  few  miles  distant  from  where  Linkumdoddie  is 
said  to  have  stood. 

The  fragment  of  a  popular  rhyme  of  the  seventeenth  century  is  quoted  in 
Scotch  Presbyterian  Eloquence  Displayed,  1694.  A  preacher  at  Linton  is  repre- 
sented as  saying  '  Our  bishops  thought  they  were  very  secure  this  long  time,  like 

Willie  Willie  Wastle,  I  am  in  my  castle ; 

A'  the  dogs  in  the  town,  dare  not  ding  me  down.' 

Willie  Wastle's  Castle  is  the  ancient  castle  of  Home,  situated  in  the  North- 
East  corner  of  Roxburghshire.  Cromwell  besieged  and  destroyed  it.  The 
owner  challenged  the  Protector  to  do  his  worst,  and  he  did  it  effectually. 

The  tune  was  first  printed  in  the  Museum  with  Burns's  song.  A  song  and 
tune  Sike  a  wife  as  Willy  had  is  in  180  Loyal  Songs,  1685,  320  ;  the  music  is 
also  in  Atkinsons  MS.  1694  and  elsewhere,  but  it  has  no  resemblance  to  that 
here  printed.  The  tune  of  Burns's  song  is  a  specimen  of  a  numerous  class  of 
Scottish  folk  music  which  puzzles  the  composer  to  harmonize. 

Wo.  214.  There's  sax  eggs  in  the  pan,  gudeman.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  409.  This  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  A  version  in  Herd's  Scots 
Songs,  1 769, 316,  has  four  stanzas  and  a  chorus.  The  first  and  second  stanzas 
of  Burns  are  near  copies  from  Herd,  the  chorus  is  somewhat  altered,  and  the 
*  sheephead '  stanza  is  much  altered.  '  Mr.  B.  gave  the  old  words ' :  (Law's 
MS.  List}. 

For  information  on  the  tune,  see  Song  No.  249.  Burns  made  a  note  on  his 
manuscript  that  the  chorus  was  to  be  sung  to  the  first  part  of  the  tune,  as  in  the 
text. 

Wo.  215.  I  bought  my  wife  a  stane  o'  lint.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  j-/o,  entitled  The  weary  pund  o  tow.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  It  is  the  model  of  a  song  known  by  the  name  of  its  tune.  Marriage 
as  a  release  from  work  is  described  by  George  Colman  the  younger  in  one  of 
his  comedies.  The  mistress  of  a  servant  who  is  careless,  asks  her  how  she 
expects  to  get  a  character  when  she  is  so  lazy,  and  receives  the  snappish  reply 
'  Character !  I  don't  want  a  character ;  I  am  going  to  be  married.'  A  black 
letter  ballad  entitled  The  Cruell  Shrow  or  the  patient  man's  woe,  printed  by 
M.P.  for  Henry  Gosson  about  1665,  describes  the  life  of  a  suffering  husband. 
The  last  stanza  contains  a  generous  wish  and  offer : — 

'  O  that  some  harmless  honest  man, 

Whom  death  did  so  befriend, 
To  take  his  wife  from  off  his  hand, 

His  sorrows  for  to  end, 
Would  change  with  me  to  rid  my  care, 

And  take  my  wife  alive, 
For  his  dead  wife,  unto  his  share ! 

Then  I  would  hope  to  thrive.' 

A  song  The  pound  of  tow — incomplete— in  The  Charmer,  1782,  i.jJ9,  is  also 
in  a  Chap-book  by  ].  Jennings,  Fleet  Street.  The  following  is  the  middle 
stanza  in  The  Charmer : — 

'  But  if  your  wife  and  my  wife  were  in  a  boat  thegither, 
And  yon  honest  man's  wife  were  in  to  steer  the  rither ; 
And  if  the  boat  were  bottomless,  and  seven  mile  to  row, 
I  think  my  wife  would  ne'er  come  back  to  spin  her  pound  of  tow.' 


IV.     CONNUBIAL 


427 


The  tune  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  c.  1756,  viii.  4.  In  the  Museum,  with 
Bnrns's  song,  it  is  directed  to  be  sung  very  slow. 

No.  216.  The  bairns  gat  out  wi'  an  unco  shout.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  396,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  The  dettks  dang  o'er  my  daddie. 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum  with  directions  by  Burns  where  the  tune  is 
to  be  found.  One  of  the  humorous  connubial  songs  for  which  Scotland  is 
distinguished.  The  dialogue  sparkles  with  fun.  The  hale  and  active  wife  has 
a  profound  disrespect  for  her  rheumatic  '  fushionless '  old  husband,  whose 
children  even  deride  him.  A  fragment  from  a  MS.  once  in  the  possession  of 
the  late  C.  K.  Sharpe  is  subjoined  : — 

The  bairns  they  a'  set  up  a  shout, 
The  deuks  dang  o'er  my  daddie,  O; 


There's  no  muckle  matter  "  quo'  the 

guidwife 
"  He's  ay  been  a  daidlin  bodie,  O." ' 


c  The  nine  pint  bicker's  fa'n  aff  the  bink, 

And  broken  the  ten-pint  cannie,  O, 

The  wife  and  her  kimmers  sat  down 

to  drink, 

But  ne'er  a  drap  gae  the  guidman- 
nie,  O ; 

The  tune  first  printed  in  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1670,  is  English;  the 
title  Buff  Coat  indicates  a  political  origin  in  the  Restoration  period  or  earlier, 
for  Fletcher,  in  The  Knight  of  Malta,  refers  to  a  song  as  The  soldier  has  no  fellow, 
which  was  sung  to  the  tune.  Early  in  the  seventeenth  century  the  defensive 
armour  of  the  soldier  was  a.  buff  leather  jerkin  thick  enough  to  protect  the 
body  from  sword  cuts.  This  continued  to  be  the  uniform  during  the  reigns  of 
Charles  I  and  II,  and  the  Commonwealth.  No  version  exists  of  The 
soldier  has  no  fellow  (or  The  buff  coat  has  no  fellow] ;  but  various  ballads  on 
other  subjects  are  marked  to  be  sung  to  Buff  coat,  and  during  the  eighteenth 
century  the  tune  was  introduced  into  several  operas.  The  Scots  tune  The  deuks 
dang  o'er  my  daddie  differs  in  detail  from  Buff  coat,  but  both  are  practically 
the  same.  The  music  entitled  The  buff  coat  has  no  fellow  is  in  Atkinsons  MS. 
1694,  and  as  the  Deukes  dang  over  my  daddie  in  Oswald's  Curioiis  Collection 
Scots  Tunes,  1740,  4  •  in  his  Companion,  1743,  i.  z;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes, 
1755,  7;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  68. 

No.  217.  Husband,  husband,  cease  your  strife.  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1799,  62,  '  Written  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Burns/  The  MS.  is  in  the 
Thomson  collection.  An  imperfect  copy  is  in  the  British  Museum.  My 
spouse  Nancy  sent  in  December,  1793,  is  an  English  version  of  My  jo  Janet, 
which  is  a  delightful  humorous  dialogue,  conducted  in  the  most  courteous 
manner  between  a  parsimonious  husband  and  a  vain  young  wife  who  dresses  to 
attract  the  attention  of  the  public.  Janet  of  the  old  song  and  the  Nancy  of 
Burns  are  different  characters.  The  latter  is  a  termagant  requiring  physical 
force  argument.  My  jo  Janet  is  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724,  and 
Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  132.  The  first  stanza  is  : — 

'  Sweet  Sir,  for  your  courtesie, 

When  you  come  by  the  Bass  then, 
For  the  love  ye  bear  to  me; 

Buy  me  a  keeking-glass  then. 
"  Keek  into  the  draw-well, 

Janet,  Janet,  and  there  ye'll  see  your  bonny  sel 
My  jo  Janet."' 

The  rest  can  be  seen  in  any  good  collection  of  Scottish  Songs.  Wanting  the 
last  stanza  it  is  in  Johnson's  Museum,  1788,  No.  in.  In  the  Interleaved 
Museum  Burns  says  '  Johnson  the  publisher,  with  a  foolish  delicacy,  refused  to 
insert  the  last  stanza  of  this  humorous  ballad.'  A  broadside  of  the  seventeenth 
century  in  the  British  Museum,  entitled  Jenny,  Jenny  ;  or  the  false-hearted 
knight,  obviously  an  English  copy  of  the  Scots  original,  relates  the  same 


428 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


incidents  as  those  of  My  jo  Janet.  There  are  at  least  two  other  black  letter 
ballads  to  the  tune  Jenny,  Jenny.  One,  The  kind-hearted  Maidens  Resolution ; 
and  the  other  •  The  Faithful  Young  Mart's  answer  to  the  kind-hearted  Maidens 
Resolution  ;  both  printed  for  I.  Clarke  at  the  Harp  and  Bible,  in  West  Smith- 
field,  between  the  years  1666  and  1684. 

The  primitive  melody  is  in  the  Straloch  MS.,  1627-29,  entitled  The  old  man; 
and,  wanting  the  second  part,  as  Long  er  onie  old  man,  in  the  Skene  MS.  c. 
1630.  The  Leyden  MS.  c.  1692,  contains  another  form  called  A'obin  and 
Janet.  The  tune  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1751,  iii.  i6\  McGibbon's  Scots 
Tunes,  1755,  n  ',  and  with  the  verses  of  My  jo  Janet  in  the  Orphetis  Caledonius, 
J733>  No.  ^<5;  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  7/9;  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  ///,  and  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  i.  ijj. 

No.  218.  I  never  saw  a  fairer.  Currie,  Works,  iv.  14,  entitled  My  Wife  '.$• 
a  winsome  wee  thing,  which  was  written  for  George  Thomson  and  described  to 
him  in  a  letter  Nov.  8,  1792,  as  '  a  few  lines  smooth  and  pretty,' and  he  goes  on 
*  If  you  mean,  my  dear  Sir,  that  all  the  songs  in  your  collection  shall  be  poetry 
of  the  first  merit,  I  am  afraid  you  will  find  difficulty  in  the  undertaking  more 
than  you  are  aware  of.'  Thomson  did  not  publish  the  song  in  Scotish  Airs, 
1818,  but  he  inserted  it  in  his  Select  Melodies,  1825,  vi.  44,  in  twenty-four 
lines,  four  being  by  Burns,  and  twenty  by  himself !  For  the  tune,  see  No.  220. 

No.  219.  O,  that  I  had  ne'er  been  married.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1803,  No.  593.  'Corrected  by  R.  Burns.'  'Mr.  B.  gave  the  old  words' 
(Law's  MS.  List}.  The  chief  portion  of  a  distracting  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop 
dated  I5th  December,  1793,  states  the  reason  of  Burns's  attention  to  the  present 
song.  The  following  is  an  extract :  '  These  four  months,  a  sweet  little  girl, 
my  youngest  child,  has  been  so  ill,  that  every  day,  a  week  or  less  threatened  to 
terminate  her  existence.  There  had  much  need  be  many  pleasures  annexed  to 
the  state  of  husband  and  father,  for  God  knows  they  have  many  peculiar 
cares.  I  see  a  train  of  helpless  little  folk  ;  me  and  my  exertions  all  their  stay ; 
and  on  what  a  brittle  thread  does  the  life  of  man  hang !  If  I  am  nipt  off  at 
the  command  of  fate  ;  even  in  all  the  vigour  of  manhood  as  I  am,  such  things 
happen  every  day — Gracious  God !  what  would  become  of  my  little  flock  !  'Tis 
here  that  I  envy  your  people  of  fortune.  A  father  on  his  deathbed,  taking  an 
everlasting  leave  of  his  children,  has  indeed  woes  enough ;  but  the  man  of 
competent  fortune  leaves  his  sons  and  daughters  independence  and  friends; 
while  I — but  I  shall  run  distracted  if  I  think  any  longer  on  the  subject !  To 
leave  off  talking  of  the  matter  so  gravely,  I  shall  sing  with  the  old  ballad 
0  that  I  had  ne'er  been  married!  He  then  quotes  the  first  stanza  of  the  present 
song.  The  only  part  written  by  Burns  is  the  last  stanza  beginning  '  Waefu' 
want  and  hunger  fly  me.'  The  first  stanza  and  chorus  are  in  the  Herd  MS. 

The  tune  entitled  Three  Crowdys  in  a  day  is  in  Atkinson 's  MS.,  1694  :  tne 
editor  of  the  Museum,  ignoring  the  sentiment  of  Burns's  song,  cruelly  marks  the 
music  to  be  sung  '  a  little  lively,'  presumably  on  the  principle  of  driving  away 
dull  care. 

*No.  220.  She  play'd  the  loon  or  she  was  married.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No.  21 7.  Burns's  holograph  in  the  Law  MS.  is  'Mr.  Burns's 
old  words.'  The  first  eight  lines  are  a  fragment  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776, 
ii.  2}o,  the  last  eight  are  the  work  of  Burns.  The  whole  song  as  here  printed  is 
in  the  Merry  Muses.  For  the  dainty  verses  which  Burns  wrote  for  Thomson  to 
the  tune,  see  No.  218.  The  music  in  our  text  is  an  early  and  good  set  from 
Stewart's  Reels,  1762, 30.  The  tune  was  first  printed  in  Original  Scotch  Tunes, 
1700,  entitled  Bride  Next,  and  with  the  present  title  in  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  1754,  vi.  12  ;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  41. 

No.  221.  On  peace  an'  rest  my  mind  was  bent.  Scots  Musical  Aluseum, 
1803,  No.  jj2.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  « Mr.  B's  old 


IV.     CONNUBIAL  429 


words'  (Law's  MS.  List}.  The  MS.  is  in  Chicago.  Stenhouse  refers  to  an 
old  song  My  wife  she  dang  me,  but  gives  no  particulars.  Burns  had  no 
experience  of  such  a  wife  as  is  suggested  in  these  verses :  his  humorous 
connubial  songs  are  uniformly  excellent.  The  class  is  very  largely  represented 
in  the  vernacular  songs  of  Scotland,  and  indicates  that  the  women  could  hold 
their  own  against  the  lords  of  creation.  Hector  Boece,  the  Scottish  historian  of 
the  fifteenth  century,  says  that  in  ancient  times  they  were  nearly  as  strong  as 
the  men,  and  maidens  and  wives  '  yeid  als  weile  to  battle  as  the  men  '  (went  as 
well  to  battle  as  the -men).  In  Motherwell's  Burns,  1834,  iii.  29,  an  obviously 
modern  song  is  quoted,  which  need  not  be  regarded.  The  tune  My  wife  she 
dang  me  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  4  ;  and  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes, 
1755,  28.  It  is  a  characteristic  melody  probably  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

No.  222.  I  coft  a  stane  o*  haslock  woo*.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  477,  signed  '  Z,'  entitled  The  cardin  o't.  &c.  The  MS.  of  this  fragment  is 
in  the  British  Museum.  The  '  haslock  woo '  named  in  the  first  line  is  the  wool 
on  the  throat  or  hals  of  the  sheep,  from  which  the  finest  and  softest  yarn  is 
made.  The  second  stanza  is  a  reminiscence  otjohn  Anderson  my  jo. 

The  tune  The  cardin  dt,  or  Salt  fish  and  dumplings,  is  a  smooth  flowing 
melody,  well  worth  preservation.  It  is.  in  Sink/er's  MS.,  1710,  entitled 
Queensburys  Scots  measure  ;  and  in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  487. 

No.  223.  The  cooper  o'  Cuddle  came  here  awa.  Scofs  Musical 
Museum,  1796,  No.  431,  entitled,  The  couper  o1  Cuddy.  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  A  version  substantially  the  same  is  in  the  Merry  Muses.  At 
the  bottom  of  the  musical  MS.  for  the  printer  Burns  has  written  '  This  tune  is 
to  be  met  with  everywhere.'  Bab  at  the  bowster  is  an  old  favourite  dance,  and 
never  omitted  at  penny  weddings  and  other  rustic  balls.  As  practised  in  the 
West  of  Scotland  it  was  rather  a  lengthy  function.  A  row  of  men  and  a  row 
of  women  faced  each  other,  with  one  in  the  middle  carrying  a  bolster.  The 
company  sang  the  refrain : — 

'  Wha  learnt  you  to  dance,  you  to  dance,  you  to  dance, 
Wha  learnt  you  to  dance,  Bab  at  the  bowster,  brawly.' 

At  the  close  of  the  stanza,  the  holder  of  the  bolster,  laid  it  at  the  feet  of  one  of 
the  opposite  sex,  and  then  both  knelt  and  kissed.  The  process  was  repeated, 
until  all  had  participated,  or  until  the  company  tired  of  the  game.  Burns,  in  a 
letter  dated  June  30,  1787,  describes  a  ball  he  was  at  in  the  Highlands, 
where  among  others  Bab  at  the  bowster  was  danced  with  enthusiasm.  This 
form  of  salutation  was  common  in  England  to  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century 
and  later,  when  the  gentlemen  kissed  the  ladies  on  entering  a  room.  Erasmus 
does  not  give  it  a  place  in  his  satire  The  Praise  of  Folly,  but  he  was  much 
impressed  with  the  custom,  which  he  could  not  sufficiently  praise,  and  on 
which  Captain  Topham,  a  competent  critic,  has  remarked  that  it  says  much 
for  the  superior  beauty  of  English  women  who  could  fire  the  lifeless  soul  of 
a  Dutchman.  The  custom  went  out  earlier  in  England  than  in  Scot- 
land, where  it  only  began  to  decline  in  the  last  quarter  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  It  still  survives  as  'kiss  in  the  ring'  in  '  unfashionable. society.' 

In  the  time  of  Bums  the  passion  for  dancing  was  at  its  height  in  Scotland. 
Captain  Topham,  in  his  Letters  from  Edinb^trgh,  1775,  describes  an  upper  and 
a  middle  class  ball,  where  the  company  danced  nothing -but  reels  and  strath- 
speys. They  sat  unmoved  at  most  of  the  -English  country  dances,  but  the 
moment  a  reel  was  played,  they  jumped  up  as  if  they  had  been  bitten  by  a 
tarantula.  The  gravest  men  in  Edinburgh,  with  the  exception  of  the  ministers, 
were  as  fond  of  dancing  as  the  Scottish  rustics  of  the  day,  and  danced  not  for 
recreation,  but  for  the  sake  of  dancing. 

The  Tune  is  in  the  Skene  MS.  c.  1630,  entitled  Who  learned  you  to  dance 
and  a  towdle;  as  Country  Bumpkin,  in  Stewart's  Reels,  c.  1768,  71;  and  as 


430 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Bab  at  the  bowster,  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  119.  It  was  "sung  in  at  least 
five  English  operas  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  known  in  England  as  A 
country  bumpkin  from  one  of  the  opera  songs  beginning : — 

'  A  country  bumpkin  who  trees  did  grub, 
A  vicar  that  used  the  pulpit  to  drub, 

And  two  or  three  more,  o'er  a  stoup  of  strong  bub, 

Late  met  on  a  jolly  occasion.' 

The  Cushion  dance,  precisely  that  described  above,  was  fashionable  and  popular 
in  England  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  :  every  class  from  the  Court  down- 
wards favoured  it.  John  Selden  (1584-1664),  in  Table  Talk,  gives  a  ludicrous 
account  of  the  English  dancing  propensities.  '  The  Court  of  England  is  much 
altered.  At  a  solemn  dancing,  first  you  had  the  grave  measures,  then  the 
Corrantos  and  the  Galliards,  and  this  is  kept  up  with  ceremony,  at  length,  to 
Trench-more  and  the  Cushion- Dance,  and  then  all  the  company  dance,  Lord 
and  groom",  Lady  and  kitchen-maid,  no  distinction.  So  in  our  Court  in  Queen 
Elizabeth's  time  gravity  and  state  were  kept  up.  In  king  James's  time  things 
were  pretty  well.  But  in  King  Charles's  time,  there  has  been  nothing  but 
Trenchmore  and  the  Cushion  Dance,  omnium  gatherum,  tolly  polly,  hoite  cum 
toite.'  Taylor,  the  water  poet,  called  the  cushion  dance  a  provocative  dance, 
for  he  before  whom  the  cushion  was  placed  was  to  kneel  and  salute  the  lady. 
A  full  description  can  be  seen  in  Chappell's  Popular  Music,  p.  154. 

The  music  of  the  English  Cushion  Dance  is  different  from  the  Scottish  tune. 
The  earliest  printed  copy  is  entitled  Gahiarde  Anglaise  in  a  Dutch  music  book, 
Amsterdam,  1615.  The  following  is  from  Nederlandtsche  Gedenck-Clanck, 
1626,  entitled : — 

Galliarde  Suit  Margriet. 


D.C. 


Wo.  224.  G-uide'en  to  you,  kimmer.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803, 
No.  j2j,  signed  '  B'  and  marked  '  corrected  by  Burns.'  Centenary  edit.  1897, 
iii.  189.  In  Gray's  MS.  Lists  '  The  music  with  Mr.  Clarke.'  In  Law's  MS. 
1  Mr.  Burns' s  old  words.'  A  part  of  the  verses  is  a  repetition,  and  probably  the 
original,  of  the  fragment  quoted  by  Percy  (see  Notes  to  No.  212}.  Is  it  not 
likely  that  the  fourth  and  fifth  stanzas  of  We're  a*  noddin  are  the  original  of 
Percy's  lines,  and  that  the  general  Johny  became  the  particular  John 
Anderson  ?  Stenhouse  circulated  Percy's  statement  in  his  Illustrations.  The 
second  and  last  stanzas  in  the  text  are  in  the  Herd  MS.  70 ;  the  rest  were 
added  by  Burns  or  obtained  from  tradition.  In  Sharpe's  Ballad  Book,  1823, 
there  is  an  incoherent  set  of  verses  of  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century 
beginning  '  Bide  a  wee,  woman,  and  gie'st  a'  out',  for  the  tune  which  probably 
originated  in  the  street  and  circulated  viva  voce  until  put  in  the  Museum. 


I 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


431 


*No.  225.  There's  cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen.  The  two  stanzas  and  chorus 
in  the  text  are  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  where  Burns  states  they  are  '  the  old 
verses.'  They  are  not  found  elsewhere,  and  he  doubtless  mended  them.  For 
an  account  of  the  tune  Cauld  Kail,  see  notes  to  Nos.  102  and  104. 


V.     BACCHANALIAN  AND  SOCIAL. 

No.  226.  The  deil  cam  fiddlin  thro'  the  town.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  399,  entitled,  The  deiVs  awa  wi'  the  exciseman.  Enclosed  in  an 
undated  letter  addressed  to  J.  Leven,  General  Supervisor  of  the  Excise,  and 
introduced  as  follows  :  '  Mr.  Mitchell  mentioned  to  you  a  ballad,  which  I 
composed  and  sung  at  one  of  his  excise  dinners  :  here  it  .is — The  Deil 's  awa  wi' 
the  exciseman,  Tune  Madame  Cossy.  If  you  honor  my  ballad  by  making  it 
one  of  your  charming  bon  vivant  effusions,  it  will  secure  it  undoubted  celebrity.' 
Lockhart,  in  his  Life  of  Burns,  1828,  relates 'the  origin  of  the  song,  which  he 
received  from  an  Excise  officer,  to  the  effect  that  Burns  was  left  on  the  Solway 
shore  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  crew  of  a  stranded  smuggler,  while  his 
companion  went  for  assistance  to  board  the  vessel.  Burns  got  tired  tramping 
the  wet  sands,  and  exercised  himself  in  writing  The  deil 's  awa  wi'  the  excise- 
man. 

The  tune  Madam  Cossy  I  conjecture  to  be  The  Quaker  s  Wife,  see  No.  40  ; 
or  it  may  be  another  name  for  that  here  reprinted  from  the  Musettm,  where  the 
song  was  first  published  under  Burns's  direction.  It  is  a  good  English  melody 
entitled  The  hemp-dresser  in  Aird's  Airs,  ii.  No.  105,  and  without  a  title  in  the 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1756,  viii.  21.  It  is  in  every  edition  of 
Play  ford's  Dancing  Master  from  the  first  issue  in  1651.  In  Durfey's  Pills, 
1 719,  i.  320,  it  is  set  to  a  song  The  sun  had  loosed  his  weary  team. 

No.  227.  Landlady,  count  the  lawin.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  770,  entitled,  Hey  tutti,  taiti.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  An 
early  Jacobite  song  of  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  on  the  same 
page  of  Johnson's  Museum.  This  political  song  is  written  with  considerable 
vigour,  one  of  the  stanzas  being  as  follows  : — 


'  When  you  hear  the  trumpet-sounds 
Tuttie  taitie  to  the  drum  ; 

Up  your  swords,  and  down  your  guns, 
And  to  the  louns  again. 


Chos.  Fill  up  your  bumpers  high, 

We'll  drink  a'  your  barrels  dry, 
Out  upon  them,  fy  !  fy ! 
That  winna  do't  again.' 


The  tune,  slightly  varied,  is  that  for  which  Burns  wrote  Scots  wha  hae — see 
Song  No.  ajj. 

No.  228.  A*  the  lads  o'  Thornie-bank.  Scots  Mtisical  Museum,  1788, 
No.  rj6  b,  signed  '  Z.'  Tune  Ruffian's  rant.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  Buckie  is  an  important  fishing  village  between  Castle  Gordon 
and  Cullen.  Burns  must  have  passed  through  Buckie  on  September  7?  i7^7> 
for  he  slept  at  Cullen  the  same  night,  and  we  know  that  he  dined  on  that 
day  with  the  Duke  of  Gordon.  The  song  is  probably  a  reminiscence  of  a  call 
for  refreshment  at  the  Inn  kept  by  '  Lady  Onlie,  honest  lucky,  who  brew'd  good 
ale  at  the  shore  o'  Bucky.' 

For  the  tune,  see  No.  239. 

No.  229.  I  sing  of  a  whistle,  a  whistle  of  worth.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  NO.JIJ,  entitled  The  Whistle.  Burns  has  described  the  origin  of  the 
contest  for  the  whistle,  and  whether  true  or  not  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  our 
Scandinavian  ancestors  were  deep  drinkers.  Poetry  and  song  were  the  magic 
of  Odin  ;  beer  was  the  ambrosial  liquor.  Regner  Lodbrog,  in  his  Dying  Ode, 


432  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

expresses  his  opinion  of  the  juice  of  the  malt,  and  in  the  last  stanza  says  : 
'  Odin  hath  sent  his  godesses  to  conduct  me  to  his  palace.  I  am  going  to  be 
placed  in  the  highest  seat,  there  to  quaff  goblets  of  beer  with  the  gods.' 

The  whistle,  according  to  Burns's  'authentic'  history,  was  brought  to  Scotland 
by  a  gigantic  Dane  who  followed  Anne,  Princess  of  Denmark,  whom  James  VI 
married.  The  Dane  challenged  any  one  to  drink  with  him,  the  condition 
being  that  the  man  who  sat  longest  at  the  table  should  become  the  owner  of 
the  Ca  or  whistle.  The  ancestor  of  Sir  Robert  Lowrie  of  Maxwelton  won  the 
trophy  after  a  three  days  and  nights'  contest,  and  blew  the  whistle  over  the 
prostrate  Scandinavian.  A  descendant  of  Sir  Robert  Lowrie  lost  the  trophy, 
which  passed  into  the  possession  of  Walter  Riddell  of  Glemiddell,  and  remained 
in  the  family.  The  contest  celebrated  by  Burns  took  place  on  Friday 
October  16,  1789,  between  Robert  Riddell  brother  of  the  holder,  Sir  Robert 
Lowrie  of  Maxwelton,  and  Alexander  Ferguson  of  Craigdarroch,  the  latter- 
named  gentleman  carrying  off  the  prize,  and  in  a  very  peculiar  way  proving  the 
survival  of  the  fittest.  It  is  very  unlikely  that  Burns  was  present  at  the  contest, 
although  the  penultimate  stanza  of  the  ballad  makes  it  appear  that  he  was. 
On  the  same  day  he  had  forwarded  two  letters  to  be  franked  by  Sir  Robert 
Lowrie,  and  said  he  would  send  a  servant  for  them  in  the  evening. 

The  ballad  was  printed  in  several  newspapers  before  it  appeared  in  the 
Museum.  Stenhouse  says  that  the  tune  is  the  composition  of  Robert  Riddell, 
one  of  the  competitors,  and  if  so,  it  is  his  best  tune.  It  is  in  the  style  of  an 
Irish  melody,  but  it  is  not  in  any  collection  prior  to  the  Museum. 

No.  230.  Ye  sons  of  old  Killie,  assembled  by  "Willie.  Cunning- 
ham's edition,  1834.  Tune,  Over  the  water  to  Charlie.  Burns  was  admitted 
as  an  honorary  member  to  the  Kilmarnock  Lodge  of  Kilwinning  Freemasons, 
on  October  26,  1786,  when  he  recited  the  foregoing  verses,  and  afterwards 
handed  a  copy  of  them  to  the  chairman,  Major  William  Parker. 

The  tune  Over  the  water  to  Charlie  was  composed  shortly  after  the  rebellion 
of  1745,  unless  it  had  a  previous  unrecorded  existence.  Burns  knew  it  as 
Irish  under  the  name  of  Shawnboy;  the  earliest  form  is  in  Johnson's  Country 
Dances,  17485  entitled  Pot-stick.  It  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1752,  iv.  7,  as 
Over  the  water  to  Charlie,  and  with  the  same  title  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1757, 16  ; 
and  the  Museum,  1788,  No.  187.  In  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  98,  it  is  entitled 
Marquis  of  Granby-Shambuy.  It  was  also  known  by  an  Irish  name  Legntm 
Cush,  and  it  may  be  the  Madam  Cossy  referred  to  in  No.  226.  For  tune,  see 
No.  294. 

No.  231.  It  's  now  the  day  is  da  win.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  442.  Stenhouse  in  Illust.,  393,  says  :  '  The  four  lines  in  the  Museum  were 
hastily  penned  by  Burns  at  the  request  of  the  publisher,  who  was  anxious  to 
have  the  tune  in  that  work,  and  the  old  words  could  not  be  discovered.'  Burns 
admired  the  air  and  refers  to  it  in  a  letter  to  Alex.  Cunningham,  May  4,  1789, 
when  he  thought  of  writing  a  song  for  the  three  Crochallan  members  Cruikshank, 
Dunbar  and  Cunningham :  '  I  have  a  good  mind  to  write  verses  on  you  all  to 
the  tune  Three  gude  fellows  ayont  the  glen'  No  verses  are  known  except 
those  in  the  text.  This  spirited  and  well  constructed  melody  is  neglected  and 
almost  unknown.  It  is  in  McGibbon's  Scots  J\mest  1746,  18;  and  Oswald's 
Companion,  1753,  v.  /. 

No.  232.  Deluded  swain,  the  pleasure.  Scotish  Airs,  1798,^.  Tune: 
The  Collier's  bonie  lassie.  Currie's  Works,  1 800,  iv.  ijj.  The  only  informa- 
tion about  this  sentimental  production  is  a  line  in  the  letter  to  Thomson 
enclosing  the  song  :  <  Then  for  The  Colliers  dochter  take  the  following  old 
bacchanal.'  No  one  has  discovered  any  previous  song  of  the  kind :  the 
presumption  is  that  Burns  had  no  wish  to  father  it.  The  tune  is  noted  in  songs 
Nos.  44  and  208. 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL  433 

No.  233.  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot?  (Johnson's  set.)  From 
a  holograph  copy  in  the  Interleaved  Museum.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  413,  signed  '  Z.'  Auld  lang  syne  is  the  best  known  and  most  widely  spread 
social  song  in  the  Anglo-Saxon  language.  Without  official  aid  such  as  has 
been  given  by  religion  to  the  Old  Hundredth,  or  to  God  save  the  King  by  the 
State,  Auld  lang  syne  has  steadily  worked  its  way  to  the  heart  of  all  classes 
of  the  nation,  and  it  stands  pre-eminent  as  the  most  familiar  secular  song  of 
the  English-speaking  people  throughout  the  world.  In  Scotland  it  slowly 
supplanted  and  eventually  obliterated  Goodnight,  and  joy  be  wt  you  a'  which, 
for  a  century  and  a  half  had  been  the  dismissory  song  at  festive  meetings.  It 
would  be  difficult  to  apportion  the  relative  merit  of  the  verse  and  the  air  which 
has  contributed  to  the  extraordinary  popularity  of  Auld  lang  syne.  Both  are 
simple  and  directly  emotional.  Nine-tenths  of  the  words  are  monosyllabic ;  the 
melody  is  a  Scottish  country  dance  tune,  which  in  the  course  of  half  a  century 
of  continuous  use  was  gradually  divested  of  superfluous  ornament,  and  was 
developed  into  the  simplest  musical  phraseology  of  the  original.  A  century  of 
increasing  fame  has  put  Auld  lang  syne  beyond  criticism,  and  we  might  as  well 
try  to  analyse  the  colour  or  aroma  of  a  wild  flower  in  order  to  direct  the  taste  as  to 
make  an  impression  by  dissecting  the  song.  The  description  of  Burns  has  been 
justified,  and  it  illustrates  the  power  of  song  so  effectively  expressed  by  Andrew 
Fletcher  of  Saltoun  (1653-1716)  nearly  two  hundred  years  ago  in  the  following 
words  more  often  than  otherwise  quoted  incorrectly:  'I  said  I  knew  a  very 
wise  man  so  much  of  Sir  Chr — 's  sentiment,  that  he  believed  if  a  man  were 
permitted  to  make  all  the  ballads,  he  need  not  care  who  should  make  the  laws 
of  a  nation.'  (Account  of  a  Conversation;  Edin.  1704.) 

A  brief  and  bare  statement  of  the  origin  of  the  verse  and  air  may  be  permitted 
here,  as  the  history  of  both  are  obscure  and  disputed.  As  regards  the  verse  . 
Burns  is  responsible  for  leading  the  public  astray,  and  his  musical  editor  George 
Thomson  obscured  the  source  of  the  air.  The  words  were  originally  published 
from  the  manuscript  of  Burns  in  Johnson's  Museum  at  the  close  of  the  year 
1796,  or  about  six  months  after  the  poet  died.  It  is  not  certain,  but  it  is  very 
probable,  that  Burns  saw  the  engraved  Museum  copy  of  Auld  lang  syne. 

In  a  letter  to  Johnson  about  October,  1 793,  he  says  'as  to  our  Musical  Museum, 
I  have  better  than  a  dozen  songs  by  me  for  the  fifth  volume.'  In  the  same 
month  he  asks  Johnson  why  the  tunes  and  verses  which  could  not  be  made 
out  were  not  sent  to  him,  and  he  requests  that  they  be  forwarded  without  delay, 
for  he  and  Clarke  are  laying  out  materials  for  the  fifth  volume.  About 
February,  1/94,  he  sent  forty-one  songs  for  the  volume,  and  informed  Johnson 
that  he  had  a  good  parcel  of  scraps  and  fragments  in  his  hands.  In  the  middle 
of  June,  1794,  Johnson  wrote  to  Burns  stating  that  the  fifth  volume  was  actually 
begun  ;  and  in  March,  1/95,  a  packet  of  songs  was  returned  to  Johnson,  ob- 
viously received  by  Burns'  for  correction.  Finally,  a  few  months  before  his 
death  a  friend  who  was  in  .Edinburgh  was  commissioned  to  bring  any  proofs 
that  were  ready.  These  references  are  given  to  show  that  Burns  knew  the 
contents  of  the  posthumous  fifth  volume  of  the  Museum  of  which  Auld  Jang 
syne  is  the  thirteenth  number.  The  poet  wrote  at  least  four  holograph  copies 
of  Auld  lang  syne.  The  first  was  part  of  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  on  December  1 7, 
1788,  from  which  the  following  is  an  extract:  'Your  meeting  which  you  so 
well  describe  with  your  old  schoolfellow  and  friend,  was  truly  interesting.  Out 
upon  the  ways  of  the  world !  they  spoil  these  "  social  offsprings  of  the  heart." 
Two  veterans  of  the  "  men  of  the  world  "  would  have  met  with  little  more  heart- 
workings  than  two  old  hacks  worn  out  on  the  road.  Apropos,  is  not  the  Scotch 
phrase  Auld  lang  syne  exceedingly  expressive  ?  There  is  an  old  song  and  tune 
which  has  often  thrilled  through  my  soul.  You  know  I  am  an  enthusiast  in 
old  Scotch  songs.  I  shall  give  you  the  verses  on  the  other  sheet  .  .  .  Light  be 
the  turf  on  the  breast  of  the  heaven-inspired  poet  who  composed  this  glorious 
fragment !  There  is  more  of  the  fire  of  native  genius  in  it  than  in  half  a  dozen 

Ff 


434  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

of  modern  English  Bacchanalians.'  This  Dunlop  Manuscript,  incomplete,  is  in 
the  possession  of  Mrs.  Pruyn  of  Albany,  New  York.  The  copy  differs  from  the 
published  versions,  and  it  is  obvious  that  Burns  revised  the  song  before  sending 
it  for  publication.  The  first  and  fifth  stanzas  and  chorus  are  as  follows : — 

First  Stanza.  Chorus. 

'Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot,  For  auld  lang  syne,  my  jo, 

And  never  thought  upon  ?  For  auld  lang  syne  ; 

Lets  hae  a  waught  o'  Malaga,  Lets  hae  a  waught  o'  Malaga, 

For  auld  lang  syne.  For  auld  lang  syne. 

Fifth  Stanza. 
'  And  there  's  a  han'  my  trusty  fiere, 

And  gie  's  a  han'  o'  thine  ; 
And  we'll  tak  a  right  gudewilly  waught, 
For  auld  lang  syne.' 

The  rest  is  substantially  the  same  as  that  in  Johnson's  Museum,  The  manu- 
script of  the  Johnson  copy  has  disappeared.  The  song  having  been  written 
for  the  Museum,  it  may  be  assumed  that  Burns,  soon  after  the  Dunlop  letter, 
sent  his  verses  to  Johnson,  who  however  put  them  aside  because  the  air  for 
which  they  were  written  had  already  appeared  with  the  verses  of  Allan  Ramsay 
in  the  first  volume  of  the  Museum  published  in  1787.  Johnson  afterwards 
discovered  the  merit  of  the  song  which  caused  him  eventually  to  publish  it,  and 
thus  to  take  the  unusual  step  of  reprinting  a  tune  which  had  already  appeared 
in  his  collection.  To  Johnson  therefore  must  be  given  the  credit  of  the  original 
publication  of  Auld  lang  syne. 

Some  years  later — in  September,  1793 — Burns  forwarded  a  third  copy  to 
George  Thomson  with  the  following  note  :  '  One  song  more,  and  I  have  done, 
Atild  lang  syne.  The  air  is  but  mediocre ;  but  the  following  song — the  old 
?ong  of  the  olden  times,  and  which  has  never  been  in  print,  nor  even  in  manu- 
script, until  I  took  it  down  from  an  old  man's  singing — is  enough  to  recommend 
any  air.'  In  November  1794,  or  after  a  lapse  of  more  than. a  year,  Burns  writes 
again  to  Thomson,  apparently  in  answer  to  a  reference  the  latter  had  previously 
made  to  the  music.  (Thomson  had  probably  discovered  from  Clarke,  the  musical 
reviser  of  the  Museum,  that  Johnson  was  in  possession  of  a  copy  of  Auld  lang 
syne.)  He  says  :  '  The  two  songs  you  saw  in  Clarke's  are  neither  of  them 
worth  your  attention.  The  words  of  Auld  lang  syne  are  good,  but  the  music 
is  an  old  air,  the  rudiments  of  the  modern  tune  of  that  name.  The  other  tune 
you  may  hear  as  a  common  Scots  country  dance'  I  have  marked  the  last 
sentence  in  italics  as  I  will  refer  to  it  in  the  Notes  on  Thomson's  set  following. 
The  fourth  copy  of  the  verses  unsuspected  and  unknown  I  have  discovered  in 
the  Interleaved  Museum  which  I  have  been  permitted  to  examine.  These 
four  precious  volumes  have  been  hidden  from  the  public  for  nearly  one  hundred 
years,  and  Cromek,  who,  in  his  Reliques  of  Robert  Burns,  1808,  pretended 
to  have  printed  a  verbatim  copy  of  the  Notes  written  by  Burns,  has  misled  the 
public  in  several  ways  as  to  the  contents.  In  connexion  with  Auld  lang  syne 
he  quotes  what  is  not  in  the  Interleaved  Museum,  and  he  omits  what  is  there, 
which  is  :  '  The  original  and  by  much  the  best  set  of  the  words  of  this  song  is 
as  follows'  as  in  our  text.  The  Dunlop  and  Interleaved  Museum  copies  definitely 
settle  the  disputed  gude-willy  controversy  which  need  not  have  caused  any 
controversy,  as  the  term  is  Old  English  and  occurs  for  example  in  the  line  '  A  ! 
faire  lady  !  Welwilly  found  at  al,'  in  John  Lydgate's  (c.  1375-1462)  Complaint 
of  the  black  knight.  A  'gude-willy  waught'  means  a  deep  drink  of  good 
fellowship. 

It  is  necessary  to  explain  what  Burns  meant  by  '  an  old  song.'  Most  of  his 
numerous  contributions  to  the  Museum  were  original,  but  many  were  earlier 
fragments  with  his  additions  and  corrections,  and  these  he  has  described  in  the 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL  435 

Law  MS.  as  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words.'  To  his  correspondents  in  general  he 
pretended  that  several  were  not  his  work  at  all,  but  merely  verses  that  he  had 
heard  or  been  told,  and  Johnson  had  no  particular  information  about  them. 
A  number  of  the  songs  in  the  Museum  bear  the  signature  X  or  Z.  On  one  of 
these,  To  the  weaver  s  gin  ye  go,  Burns  made  the  following  note  in  the  Inter- 
leaved Museum.  '  The  chorus  of  this  is  old  ;  the  rest  of  it  is  mine ' ;  and  then 
he  goes  on  to  make  a  general  statement :  '  Here,  once  for  all,  let  me  apologize 
for  many  silly  compositions  of  mine  in  this  work.  Many  beautiful  airs  wanted 
words ;  in  the  hurry  of  other  avocations,  if  I  could  string  a  parcel  of  rhymes 
together  anything  near  tolerable,  1  was  fain  to  let  them  pass.  He  must  be  an 
excellent  poet  indeed,  whose  every  performance  is  excellent.'  A  few  examples 
from  his  Notes  may  serve  to  illustrate  the  subject.  '  Go  fetch  to  me  a  pint  of 
wine '  he  described  as  old  to  Mrs.  Dunlop,  though  he  subsequently  stated  that 
he  was  the  author  of  all  but  the  first  four  lines.  Strathallaris  lament  in  the 
Museum  is  wholly  original;  in  '  I'm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet/  signed  'Z,'  the 
chorus  alone  is  old ;  while  in  M*Phersoris  Farewell  the  legend  alone  is  all 
that  he  borrowed,  and  there  is  scarcely  anything  in  his  verses  to  compare  with 
the  old  ballad.  Of  'John  Anderson  my  jo,'  only  the  first  line  or  title  is 
borrowed,  the  rest  is  the  very  antipodes  of  the  early  and  now  unprintable  verses. 
Again,  the  whole  of  the  Gardener  iv?  his  paidle  (signed  Z  in  the  Museum} 
except  the  title  is  original,  and  the  same  is  the  case  with  Whistle  oer  the  lave 
ot.  How  far  Burns  revised  or  amended  the  so-called  '  old  '  version  of  Auld 
lang  syne  may  be  gathered  from  what  follows ;  but  it  may  be  premised  that 
no  verses  containing  sentiments  akin  to  those  in  Burns's  song  have  ever  been 
found,  the  only  discovery  being  a  ballad  with  the  refrain  '  On  old  lang  syne, 
my  jo'  (quoted  below)  which  from  the  context  is  the  echo  of  another  set  of  verses 
— or  the  reverse — at  any  rate,  not  at  all  in  the  spirit  of  Burns's  world-wide 
'  Bacchanalian.' 

The  earliest  mention  of  the  precise  vernacular  phrase  Auld  lang  syne  is  in  that 
scurrilous  work  Scotch  Presbyterian  Eloquence  Display1  d,  London,  1694,  64, 
where  the  author  quotes  the  following  from  a  sermon  preached  :  *  Did  you 
ever  hear  tell  of  a  good  God,  and  a  cappet  (pettish)  prophet,  Sirs?  The  good 
God  said,  Jonah,  now  billy  Jonah,  wilt  thou  go  to  Nineveh,  tat  Auld  lang  syne 
(old  kindness).'  The  italicized  words  in  the  original  a  re  probably  the  reminiscence 
of  a  popular  song,  in  which  case  it  takes  us  back  to  the  late  part  of  the 
seventeenth  century;  or  it  may  be  only  a  phrase.  Jamieson,  in  his  Scottish 
Dictionary,  describes  syne  as  follows :  '  To  a  native  of  this  country  it  is  very 
expressive,  and  conveys  a  soothing  idea  to  the  mind,  as  recalling  the  memory 
of  joys  that  are  past.'  This  is  precisely  what  the  whole  of  the  song  of  Burns 
does,  and  it  is  the  central  source  of  its  immense  popularity.  The  word  is  Old 
English  ;  Robert  de  Brunne  c.  1300,  in  a  curious  description  of  manners  of  the 
time,  uses  it  thus  : — 

'  The  king  said,  as  the  knight  gan  ken 

Drinkhaille !  smiland  on  Rowen 
Rowen  drank  as  her  list, 

And  gave  the  king :  sine  him  kist.' 

It  occurs  in  the  works  of  Barbour,  Dunbar,  Douglas,  and  many  of  the  older 
Scottish  poets  in  the  sense  of  then  or  since. 

The  germ  of  the  song  lies  in  an  anonymous  ballad  of  eight  double  stanzas  in 
the  Bannatyne  MS.  1568  (folio  80  £),  entitled  Auld  Kyndnes  foryett,  which 
begins  '  This  warld  is  all  bot  fenyeit  fair,'  and  is  the  soliloquy  of  one  in 
straitened  circumstances,  who,  having  seen  better  days,  laments  the  ingratitude 
of  those  who  formerly  professed  themselves  friends.  The  fifth  stanza  may  be 
quoted  as  a  specimen  of  the  poetry  of  the  early  part  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  as  an  example  of  the  masculine  strength  of  the  Scots  language : — 

pfa 


43^ 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


'  Thay  wald  me  hals  with  hude  and  hatt, 
Quhyle  I  wes  riche  and  had  anewch, 
About  me  friendis  anew  I  gatt, 
Rycht  blythlie  on  me  they  lewch  ; 
Bot  now  thay  mak  it  wondir  tewch, 
And  lattis  me  stand  befoir  the  yett ; 
Thairfoir  this  warld  is  verry  frewch, 
And  auld  kyndnes  is  quyt  foryett.' 

A  later  ballad  is  the  well-known  two  sets  of  verses  attributed  on  slender 
authority  by  some  to  Sir  Robert  Aytoun  (1570-1638),  and  on  more  imperfect 
evidence  by  others,  to  Francis  Sempill  of  Belltrees  (died  c.  1683).  It  was  first 
printed  in  a  miscellaneous  collection  in  Watson's  Scots  Poems,  1711,  and  begins 
as  follows  : — 


'  Should  old  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  never  thought  upon, 

The  flames  of  love  extinguished, 
And  freely  past  and  gone  ? 


Is  thy  kind  heart  now  grown  so  cold 
In  that  loving  breast  of  thine, 

That  thou  canst  never  once  reflect 
On  old-long-syne  ? ' 


In  the  Laing  collection,  now  in  the  possession  of  Lord  Rosebery,  is  a  street 
song  (referred  to  in  the  Centenary  Burns)  headed  '  An  excellent  and  proper  new 
ballad,  entitled  "  Old  long  syne  ".  Newly  corrected  and  amended  with  a  large 
and  new  edition  of  several  excellent  love  lines?  The  date  of  the  issue  of  this 
broadside  is  about  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  chorus  or  refrain 
runs  as  follows  : — 

'  On  old  long  syne, 

On  old  long  syne,  my  jo, 

On  old  long  syne : 

That  thou  canst  never  once  reflect 
On  old  long  syne.' 

It  will  be  observed  from  the  title  that  this  ballad  is  the  reprint  of  an  earlier 
publication,  and  it  is  important  to  notice  that  the  refrain  contains  (i)  the  same 
sentiment  '  That  thou  canst  never  once  reflect,'  as  that  expressed  in  the  song 
attributed  to  Aytoun,  and  (2)  that  the  words  '  my  jo'  are  part  of  the  title  of 
the  earliest  copy  of  the  tune,  and  also  of  Burns's  chorus  as  printed  in  the 
Museum.  Whether  this  popular  song  is  anterior  to  that  previously  mentioned 
and  ascribed  to  Aytoun  is  uncertain. 

In  Scots  Songs,  1720,  77,  Allan  Ramsay  published  a  song  of  five  stanzas 
which  has  often  been  reprinted.  The  first  lines  are  : — 


'  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
Tho'  they  return  with  scars  ? 

These  are  the  noble  hero's  lot, 
Obtain' d  in  glorious  wars  : 


Welcome,  my  Varo,  to  my  breast, 
Thy  arms  about  me  twine. 

And  make  me  once  again  as  blest, 
As  I  was  lang  syne.' 


And  the  poem  goes  on  to  describe,  in  the  usual  conventional  style  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  the  conjunction  of  Mars  and  Venus,  and  concludes  happily 
with  the  words : — 

'Where  the  good  priest  the  couple  blest, 
And  put  them  out  of  pine.' 

There  are,  urther,  several  political  or  patriotic  ballads,  one  of  which  modelled 
on  the  Watson  set  is  against  the  union  of  the  countries,  and  contains  the 
following  lines : — 

'  Is  Scotsmen's  blood  now  grown  so  cold, 

The  valour  of  their  mind 
That  they  can  never  once  reflect 
On  old  long  sine  ? ' 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


437 


Another  entitled  0  Caledon,  O  Caledon,  is  in  the  Laing  collection,  and 
published  in  the  Lockhart  papers,  1817.  Lastly  a  Jacobite  ballad  of  six 
double  stanzas  in  the  True  Loyalist,  1779,  entitled  Langsyne,  is  supposed  to 
be  written  by  a  skulker  in  the  year  1 746,  beginning  : — 

'Should  old  gay  mirth  and  cheerfulness 

Be  dashed  for  evermore, 
Since  late  success  in  wickedness 

Made  Whigs  insult  and  roar.' 

which  is  the  nearest  approach  to  the  social  sentiment  of  Burns's  song,  but,  with 
the  exception  of  the  title,  there  is  nothing  in  it  or  in  any  of  the  poems  quoted 
which  could  either  have  inspired  Burns,  or  served  as  a  model  for  his  verses. 

We  have  thus  to  fall  back  upon  his  statement  of  the  street  ballad  which  had 
never  been  in  print  nor  in  writing.  We  know  the  transformation  which 
Burns  effected  in  all  songs  of  this  class,  so  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  that  his 
contemporaries  who  could  discover  no  song  of  the  kind  should  be  sceptical  as 
to  his  account  of  their  origin.  Cromek,  in  Scotish  Songs,  1810,  ii.  228,  says: 
'  This  ballad  of  Auld  lang  syne  was  also  introduced  in  an  ambiguous  manner, 
though  there  exist  proofs  that  the  two  best  stanzas  of  it  are  indisputably  his.  He 
delighted  to  imitate  and  muse  on  the  customs  and  opinions  of  his  ancestors  .  .  . 
all  tended  to  confer  on  him  that  powerful  gift  of  imitating  the  ancient  ballads  of 
his  country  with  the  ease  and  simplicity  of  his  models.'  Cromek  was  a  warm 
admirer  of  Burns's  genius,  and  scoured  Ayrshire  and  the  Southern  counties  of 
Scotland  in  collecting  memorials  of  the  poet  which  he  afterwards  published ; 
but  he  does  not  state  what  authority  he  had  for  saying  that  Burns  wrote  only 
two  stanzas  of  the  song.  George  Thomson  was  also  sceptical  about  the  old 
original ;  to  enhance  his  collection,  however,  he  printed  at  the  head  of  Auld 
Lang  Syne  in  Scotish  Airs,  the  observation  that  it  was  '  from  an  old  MS.  in 
the  Editor's  possession,'  without  mentioning  Burns  at  all.  This  statement  was 
misleading,  for  the  MS.  was  less  than  five  years  old  and  in-  the  poet's*hand- 
writing.  In  the  later  editions  the  word  '  old  '  was  deleted,  and  the  head  note 
reads,  '  from  a  MS.  in  the  Editor's  possession '  with  this  remark — '  The  follow- 
ing exquisitely  beautiful  song  was  sent  by  Burns  with  information  that  it  is  an 
old  song  &c.  ...  It  is  more  than  probable,  however,  that  he  said  this  in  a 
playful  humour,  for  the  editor  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  song  affords  full 
evidence  of  Burns  himself  being  the  author.'  By  this  time  Auld  lang  syne  had 
acquired  considerable  fame,  and  Thomson  was  obliged  to  correct  his  misleading 
note.  We  shall  see,  however,  from  the  story  of  the  modern  melody  that  this  is 
not  the  only  instance  of  his  having  led  the  public  astray. 

The  last  writer  who  may  be  named  on  the  subject  is  William  Stenhouse,  who 
affirms  that  Burns  admitted  to  Johnson  that  three  stanzas  only  were  old,  the 
other  two  being  written  by  himself.  This  is  a  mere  repetition  of  Cromek 
with  the  additional  information  that  Burns  told  Johnson.  The  three  supposed 
old  stanzas  are  those  relating  to  the  cup,  the  -pint  stoup  and  the  gude-iuilly 
waught.  No  trace  of  the  '  old '  song,  if  it  ever  existed  in  the  particular  of 
Burns,  has  been  discovered  ;  and  if  according  to  his  statement,  that  it  never  was 
in  print,  or  even  in  manuscript,  it  never  can  be  discovered:  and  further  it  is 
difficult  to  admit  the  assertion,  unless  he  wrote  the  verses  himself.  After  his 
warm  eulogy  on  the  song  with  the  first  copy  to  Mrs.  Dunlop,  he  was  bound  to 
adhere  to  the  anonymous  origin,  and  as  he  continued  to  extol  it  he  was  not  the 
man  to  open  himself  to  ridicule  by  claiming  it. 

The  air  or  tune  of  our  text  is  that  for  which  Burns  wrote  his  song.  It  should 
be  remembered  that  this  tune  was  associated  with  every  song  or  ballad  of 
Auld  lang  syne,  including  that  of  Burns  up  to  the  year  1799,  when  it  was 
displaced  by  the  present  well  known  air  to  be  described  in  the  next  Number. 
The  music  has  an  historical  record  of  exactly  a  hundred  years.  Doubtless  it 
belongs  to  a  considerable  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  although  the  music 


438 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


has  not  been  found  earlier  than  in  Playford's  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700, 
the  first  printed  collection  of  Scottish  music  of  any  kind.  The  title  of  the 
tune  there  is  For  old  long  Gine  (sic)  my  jo,  which  corresponds  with  the  first 
line  of  the  refrain  of  the  seventeenth-century  ballad  cited  above,  On  old  long 
syne,  my  jo.  In  all  later  collections  of  music  of  the  eighteenth  century,  except 
one,  the  title  is  invariably  Auld  lang  syne.  The  tune  is  in  Sinkler's  MS., 
1710;  Orpheus  Caledonius,  i725,No.j/;  Ramsay's  Mustek,  c.  1726;  Watts's 
Musical  Miscellany,  1730,  iv.  46 ;  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751,  iii. 
21 ;  Scots  Miisical  Museum,  1787,  No.  2j,  with  Ramsay's  words,  and  later  in 
the  same  work  with  Burns's  verses.  The  copies  in  these  and  other  collections 
vary  more  or  less  from  one  another,  but  all  of  them  except  that  in  the  Museum 
of  1796  close  upon  the  fifth  of  the  scale.  This  latter  is  the  simplest  form  of  the 
melody  divested  of  superfluous  notes.  The  exception  to  the  invariable  title  is 
the  copy  in  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  91,  where  it  bears  the  name  of  The 
hopeless  lover  set  to  the  song  of  Burns  '  Now  Spring  has  clad  the  grove  in  green.' 
The  music  is  an  exact  reprint  of  that  in  the  Museum,  1796,  and  Thomson 
probably  changed  the  name  to  conceal  his  indebtedness  to  the  work  which  he 
styled  a  vulgar  publication. 

Variations  in  Johnson's  Museum  :  verse  I,  line  4, '  and  auld  lang  syne ' ;  chorus 
line  i,  'For  auld  lang  syne,'  &c. ;  v.  3, 1.  3,  'fitt';  v.  4, 1.  i,'in';  1.  2,  'morning.' 

No.  234.  Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot  (Thomson's  set).  Scotish 
Airs,  1799,  68;  '  From  an  old  MS.  in  the  editor's  possession.'  Select  Melodies , 
1822,  ii.  19  ;  'From  a  MS.  in  the  editor's  possession.'  The  difference  in  the 
descripfion  of  the  manuscripts  in  the  two  publications  of  Thomson  has  already 
been  noticed.  With  one  or  two  slight  variations  this  is  the  version  in  Currie's 
Burns,  1800,  iv.  123.  The  principal  variations  from  -the  Museum  copy  is  the 
substitution  of  *  my  dear '  for  '  my  jo  '  in  the  chorus ;  and  the  second  stanza  in 
the  Museum  is  the  last  in  Scotish  Airs.  This  latter  is  more  often  printed  in 
modern  collections  although  the  Museum  copy  is  more  radiant  and  attractive, 
and  the  better  of  the  two. 

The  present  popular  melody  was  first  attached  to  the  song  in  Scotish  Airs, 
and,  although  Thomson  is  generally  believed  to  be  solely  responsible  for 
selecting  it,  there  is  reason  for  saying  that  Burns  was  consulted.  That  he  was 
familiar  with  the  air  will  be  evident  from  what  follows.  Thomson  obtained 
'  the  music  from  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  and  of  this  there  can  be  no  doubt. 
On  comparing  the  music  in  our  text  with  that  of  song  No.  144,  two  passing 
notes  in  the  first  part  of  the  tune  are  the  only  variations  from  0  can  ye  labor 
lea, — the  music  of  the  chorus  of  Auld  lang  syne  being  a  close  copy  of  the 
other.  It  is  important  to  point  this  out,  which  has  not  been  done  before, 
because  Thomson  made  an  ambiguous  statement  as  to  the  source  of  his 
melody,  which  has  led  up  to  the  unwarranted  claim  that  William  Shield 
composed  the  air.  Neither  Thomson,  Stenhouse,  Graham,  Chappell,  nor  any 
other  expert  has  said  so,  and  Shield  himself,  who  died  in  1829,  never  claimed 
it.  Stenhouse,  simply  repeating  Thomson,  says:  'Mr.  Thomson  got  the  words 
arranged  to  an  air  introduced  \>y  Shield  in  his  overture  to  the  opera  of  Rosina, 
1783.'  The  word  in  italics  or  its  equivalent  has  always  been  used  by  writers 
on  the  subject,  but  the  meaning  was  overlooked  and  deflected  by  the  public, 
and  gradually  the  supposititious  pretension  of  Shield  was  alleged  as  a  fact ;  and 
Burns's  editors,  not  knowing  the  merits  of  the  case,  have  given  it  currency. 
Chappell,  who  wished  it  to  be  an  English  air,  did  not  trouble  himself  to  correct 
the  uncritical,  and  chiefly  relying  on  the  ambiguous  statement  of  Thomson  he 
maintained  what  was  not  denied,  that  the  air  is  in  Rosina.  He  did  not 
challenge  the  accuracy  of  the  following  paragraph  by  Stenhouse  that 
'  Mr.  Shield,  however,  borrowed  this  air,  almost  note  for  note,  from  the  third 
and  fourth  strains  of  the  Scotish  Strathspey  in  Cumming's  collection,  under  the 
title  of  The  Miller's  Wedding,'  but  he  disputed  the  statement  that  Cumming's 


I 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


439 


publication  was  issued  as  early  as  1 780.  An  edition,  and  perhaps  not  the 
earliest,  of  Cumming's  Strathspeys  containing  the  tune  is  dated  Edinburgh  178°* 
which  settles  the  priority  so  far  as  Shield  is  concerned.  Why  Thomson  misled 
the  public  and  did  not  acknowledge  his  obligation  to  the  editor  of  the 
Museum  has  been  already  told.  He  regarded  Johnson's  collection  as  mean  and 
inferior,  and  always  spoke  contemptuously  of  it.  In  the  published  corres- 
pondence of  Burns  he  never  once  names  it,  although  Burns  repeatedly  refers 
Thomson  to  the  work  in  his  letters.  This  appears  to  me  to  be  the  reason  why 
Thomson  made  a  far-off  and  unnecessary  allusion  to  the  Rosina  music,  which, 
compared  with  that  in  the  Museum,  varies  considerably  from  his  copy  both  as 
regards  notes  and  accents.  He  apparently  consulted  Burns  as  to  the  tune. 
In  the  poet's  letter  to  him  speaking  of  the  old  tune  as  mediocre  he  accurately 
describes  the  air  which  was  selected  as  '  the  other  tune  you  may  hear  as  a 
common  Scots  country  dance.'  It  is  quite  certain  that  Burns  knew  it  well, 
for  he  contributed  the  verses  '  I  fee'd  a  man  at  Martinmas '  for  the  tune,  and 
for  a  variant  of  it  '  Comin  thro'  the  rye,'  which  in  the  Gray  MS.  he  instructs  to 
be  set  to  'Tune — Millers  Wedding,  a  Strathspey.'  Thus  the  melodies  oiAuld 
lang  syne,  0  can  you  labor  lea,  Comin  thro1  the  rye  and  others  in  Scottish  song 
books  are  all  variants  of  the  same  air  and  derived  from  a  Strathspey,  originally 
published  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1759.  No  tune  was  better  known  or  more 
popular  in  Scotland  during  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  it  was 
published  in  numerous  collections  under  many  titles.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
explain  why  a  Scots  country  dance  should  be  in  Shield's  opera.  The  English 
opera  belongs  to  a  class,  the  songs  of  which  are  not  set  to  music  expressly 
composed  for  them,  but  are  written  for  existing  tunes,  principally  those  of  old 
ballads  and  songs.  The  overtures  are  generally  pot-pourris  of  popular 
melodies  such  as  are  performed  by  the  orchestra  of  a  modern  pantomime.  The 
Beggars'  Opera  is  the  first  and  best  of  the  class,  and  was  the  most  -successful 
of  its  kind.  It  had  no  original  music,  all  the  songs  are  written  for  particular 
airs,  many  of  which  are  Scottish.  The  overture  was  subsequently  composed  by 
Dr.  Pepusch.  The  title  page  of  Rosina  announces  that  it  is  composed  and 
selected  by  W.  Shield.  The  overture  is  a  mixture  of  portions  of  The  British 
grenadiers,  Singleton  s  Slip,  some  bars  of  See  the  conquering  hero  conies,  an 
English  country  dance  and  other  old  airs  strung  together  with  a  few  bars  of 
original  music,  the  last  movement  being  a  variation  and  an  adaptation  of  the 
Scots  country  dance,  with  orchestral  accompaniment  to  imitate  the  music  of 
the  bagpipe.  At  least  one-third  of  the  airs  in  Rosina  are  selected  from 
English,  French,  and  Scottish  songs.  The  opening  song  See  the  rosy  morn 
appearing  is  the  composition  of  John  Garth,  an  organist  of  Durham  and  the 
English  editor  of  '  Marcello's  psalms.'  Such  is  a  sketch  of  Rosina,  an  English 
opera,  after  a  cursory  examination  of  the  work.  For  his  time  William  Shield 
was  a  good  composer  with  a  gift  of  melody.  He  was  a  native  of  Swalwell, 
a  village  in  Durham  on  the  borders  of  Northumberland,  and  was  familiar  with 
Scottish  melodies  from  his  youth.  He  harmonized  the  music  of  Napier's 
Scots  Songs,  1792,  and  I  believe  that  he  selected  and  edited  the  tunes  for 
Ritson's  Scotish  Songs  in  1794.  He  was  intimate  with  Robert  Bremner,  the 
leading  publisher  of  Scottish  music  in  London,  and  frequently  visited  his  shop. 
The  leading  phrase  of  the  first  part  of  Auld  lang  syne  is  the  first  movement 
of  7^he  Duke  of  Bticcleugh's  Tune  in  Apollo's  Banquet,  1690.  The  tune  itself 
was  originally  published  under  the  title  TheMillers  Wedding,  in  Bremner's 


1783  ;  as  Sir  Alex.  Don  in  Gow's  Strathspey  Reels,  1784  ;  as  Roger  s  farewell 
in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  528  ;  as  0  can  ye  labor  lea  in  Johnson's  Museum, 
1792,  No.  394  ;  as  Qomin  thro'  the  rye,  in  the  same  collection  of  the  year  1796, 
No.  418  ;  and  finally  as  ~AuldJting  syne  in  Scotch  Aifs~3S~\n.  the  text.  None 


44° 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


of  the  copies  are  exact  reproductions.  Every  succeeding  editor  made  alterations 
here  and  there,  and  Shield  simply  took  his  place  in  the  development  of  the  air. 
To  show  how  he  got  it  and  how  he  left  it  I  subjoin  the  air  from  Cumming's 
Strathspeys,  1780,  and  that  from  Rosina,  1783. 

dimming,  1780. 


]  *  _  fS"        I     S 

£iste^S 


To  complete  the  examination :  these  transcripts  can  be  compared  with  the 
music  of  0  can  ye  labor  lea  (No.  144}  and  Auld  lang  syne,  bhield  certainly 
changed  the  character  of  the  air  by  leaving  out  the  dotted  notes  in  the  first 
portion  of  the  air,  and  the  conspicuous  improvement  he  effected  by  some 
altered  intervals  was  more  than  lost  in  weakening  the  accents  by  the  use  of 
equal  notes.  The  editor  of  the  1792  copy  in  the  Museum  restored  the  original 
character,  and  improved  Shield  by  raising  the  climax  in  the  fourth  bar  by  a  full 
tone.  Thomson,  in  Auld  lang  syne,  completed  the  tune  by  more  melodic  steps 
in  the  third  bar  leading  up  to  the  climax ;  and  also  by  a  more  gradual  and 
easy  descent  in  the  fifth  bar.  The  result  of  my  investigation  is  that  the  air 
was  selected  by  Shield  as  announced  in  the  title-page  of  his  opera,  and  that  he 
was  not  the  composer  of  Auld  lang  syne  any  more  than  the  restorer  of  an 
edifice  can  be  called  the  architect. 

No.  235.  O,  "Willie  brew'd  a  peck  of  maut.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  291,  entitled,  Willie  brew'd  a  peck  o1  maut;  Select  Melodies,  1825, 
vi.  jj.  This  convivial  song  is  known  almost  as  well  as  Auld  Lang  Syne.  It 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL 


441 


was  written  to  commemorate  a  festive  meeting  which  took  place  in  the  autumn 
of  1789.  'This  air  is  Masterton's;  the  song  mine.  The  occasion  of  it  was 
this:  Mr.  William  Nicol,  of  the" High  School,  Edinburgh,  during  the  autumn 
vacation  being  at  Moffat,  honest  Allan,  who  was  at  that  time  on  a  visit  to 
Dalswinton,  and  I  went  to  pay  Nicol  a  visit.  We  had  such  a  joyous  meeting, 
and  Mr.  Masterton  and  I  agreed,  each  in  our  own  way,  that  we  should  celebrate 
the  business'  {Interleaved  Museunt).  The  verses  and  music  were  forthwith  sent 
to  the  Museum.  Nicol  died  on  April  21, 1797,  and  Masterton  in  1799.  Currie, 
in  Works,  1800,  lamented  that  the  three  honest  fellows  who  took  part  in  the 
festival,  all  men  of  uncommon  talents,  were  now  under  the  turf.  Burns  probably 
found  the  model  of  his  song  in  Thefumblers  rant,  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the 
Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1740,  the  fifth  stanza  of  which  is  as  follows: — 

'  Here 's  a  health  to  John  Mackay  we'll  drink, 

To  Hughie,  Andrew,  Rob,  and  Tarn  ; 
WV11  sit  and  drink,  we'll  nod  and  wink, 

It  is  o'er  soon  for  us  to  gang. 
Foul  fa'  the  cock,  he's  spilt  the  play, 

And  I  do  trow  he's  but  a  fool, 
We'll  sit  awhile,  'tis  lang  to  day, 

For  a'  the  cocks  they  rave  at  Yool.' 

The  Baroness  Nairn,  the  authoress  of  The  land  o*  the  leal,  projected  a  bowdler- 
ized edition  of  Burns's  songs,  but  fortunately  abandoned  the  idea.  She  was 
the  anonymous  editor  of  The  Scottish  Minstrel,  where  many  of  her  finest  songs 
were  first  printed.  The  publisher  on  his  own  responsibility  inserted  Willie 
brew" d  a  peck  d1  maut,  but  Lady  Nairn  strongly  disapproved  of  the  selection, 
and  it  was  suppressed  in  the  next  edition. 

The  Tune  is  a  copy  from  the  original  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum  ;  words 
and  music  are  also  in  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  i.  239,  and  Dale's  Scotch 
Songs,  I794,iii.  ij2.  Use  and  selection  have  divested  the  melody  of  the  original 
superfluous  passing  notes  which  the  singers  of  last  century  considered  graceful 
and  artistic.  It  is  improved  in  modern  collections;  written  in  the  modern 
scale  it  is  easily  harmonized,  and  many  composers  with  more  or  less  success 
have  made  it  into  a  three  or  four  part  song.  Both  verses  and  music  are 
inspirations. 

No.  236.  No  churchman  am  I  for  to  rail  and  to  write,  first  Edinburgh 
edition,  1787, 336.  Tune — Prepare  my  dear  brethren,  &c. ;  also  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1803,  No.  387  :  '  By  R.  Burns,'  with  music.  This  song  is  neither 
better  nor  worse  than  the  average  bacchanalian  tol-de-rol  ditty  of  the  eighteenth 
century  on  which  it  is  framed. 

On  October  I,  1781,  Burns  was  made  a  Master  in  the  Tarbolton  Lodge  of 
Freemasons,  and  the  last  stanza  was  specially  written  for  the  craft.  The  wrong 
tune  The  lazy  mist  is  printed  in  the  Museum.  That  in  the  text  has  long  been 
popular  with  the  Freemasons.  It  is  entitled  the  Freemasons'  health  in  Watts's 
Musical  Miscellany,  1730,  iii.  72,  and  begins,  Come,  let  us  prepare  we  brothers 
that  are:  while  it  is  called  The  freemasons'  march  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i. 
No.  /7J-.  It  was  well  known  in  the  West  of  Scotland,  the  children  in  the 
streets  singing  it  to  the  rhyme : — 

'  Hey  the  merry  Masons,  and  ho  the  merry  Masons 
'Hey  the  merry  Masons  goes  marching  along,'  &c.,  &c. 
A  humorous  song,  with  the  music,  is  printed  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  ii.  230, 
entitled,  On  the  Queen's  progress  to  the  Bath.     It  is  named  The  enter  d  appren- 
tice s  song  in  a  Masons'  Song  Book,  1 790.     For  tune,  see  No.  329. 

No.  237.  O,  rattlin,  roarin  Willie.  Scots  Musical  Museilm,  1788, 
No.  194,  signed  '  Z,'  with  the  music  of  Rattlin,  roarin  Willie.  This  is  an  old 
unprinted  song  with  corrections  and  additions.  '  The  last  stanza  of  this  song  is 


442  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

mine,  and  out  of  compliment  to  one  of  the  worthiest  fellows  in  the  world, 
William  Dunbar,  Esq.,  Writer  to  the  Signet,.  Edinburgh,  and  Colonel  of  the 
Crochallan  Corps,  a  club  of  wits  who  took  that  title  at  the  time  of  raising  the 
fencible  regiments'  (Interleaved  Museum}.  The  song  has  little  merit,  but 
there  is  a  touch  of  human  nature  in  the  old  lines  where  the  drouthy  gut- 
scraper  resists  the  temptation  to  sell  his  fiddle  for  the  liquor  for  which  he 
thirsts.  This  hero  is  said  to  have  been  a  border  reiver. 

In  the  Tea-7^able  Miscellany,  1724,  the  tune  is  marked  with  a  sentimental 
song  beginning  'O  Mary,  thy  graces  and  glances'— an  irrelevant  combination. 
The  music,  as  Bonny,  roaring  Willie,  is  in  Blackies  MS.,  1692  ;  entitled 
Ranting,  roving  Willie  in  Atkinson's  Northumberland  MS.,  1694;  and  printed 
in  Oswald's  Companion,  c.  1755,  vii.  $>.  It  is  a  bag-pipe  melody  of  the  class 
common  to  the  South  of  Scotland,  and  North  of  England. 

No.  238.  Here 's  a  bottle  and  an  honest  friend.  Cromek.  Reliques, 
1808,  440,  entitled  '  Song]  without  name  of  tune.  The  following  motto  was 
attached  to  the  title  in  Pickering's  Burns,  1834  : — 

'  There 's  nane  that 's  blest  of  human  kind 
But  the  cheerful  and  the  gay,  man ; 

Fa,  la,  la,  la,  &c.' 

The  song  books  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  loaded  with  bacchanalian  ditties 
good  and  bad — chiefly  the  latter.  This  stanza  of  Burns  is  classical  compared 
with  the  coarse  materialistic  rhymes  of  the  collections. 

No.  239.  In  comin  by  the  brig  o*  Dye.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  ij6,  signed  « Z,'  and  with  the  tune,  Ruffian's  rant.  The  MS. 
is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  poet  was  at  Stonehaven  on  September  10, 
1787,  just  after  a  meeting  at  Aberdeen  with  Bishop  Skinner,  son  of  the  author 
of  Tullochgorum.  Ten  days  before,  he  had  spent  a  day  with  Niel  Gow  at 
Dunkeld.  Close  to  Stonehaven  is  the  river  Dye,  a  tortuous  stream  which 
zigzags  from  the  eastern  spur  of  the  Grampians,  and  falls  into  the  Dee  at 
Upper  Banchory. 

Who  the  Theniel  Menzies,  or  Bonie  Mary,  or  Charlie  Grigor  of  the  song 
were,  is  not  known.  The  verses  are  doubtless  a  reminiscence  of  a  night  spent 
at  the  Inn  of  the  Brig  of  Dye.  The  Tune  Ruffian's  rant  is  widely  known  as 
Roys  wife,  from  Mrs.  Grant's  sprightly  song  of  the  same  name.  It  was  origin- 
ally a  slow  strathspey  air,  but  the  eclecticism  of  music  in  adapting  itself  to 
different  moods  by  a  change  of  time  is  exemplified  here,  as  in  Scots,  who1  hae. 
A  slow  movement  of  Ruffians  rant  is  the  tune  of  the  following  pathetic 
verses : — 

'  Though  thou  leave  me  now  in  sorrow, 
Smiles  may  light  our  love  to-morrow; 
Doom'd  to  part,  my  faithful  heart 
A  gleam  of  joy  from  hope  shall  borrow.' 

The  Tune  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1 759,  4}  ;  Cumming's  Strathspeys,  1780,  page^? ; 
and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  114  ;  also  in  MeFarlanes  MS.,  c.  1740,  entitled 
Cog  na  scalan.     Burns  wrote  a  conventional  Anglo-Scottish  song  for  the  tune 
in  reply  to  a  whip  of  George  Thomson — see  Song  No.  164. 
Three  old  songs  for  the  melody  are  in  the  Merry  Muses. 

No.  240.  Adieu!  a  heart- warm,  fond  adieu.  Kilmarnock  edition,  1786, 
228,  entitled  '  The  farewell,  To  the  brethren  of  St.  James's  Lodge,  Tarbolton. 
Tune  Good  night  and  joy  be  wf  you  a' ' ;  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 803,  No.  600. 
This,  the  last  song  in  both  publications,  is  supposed  to  have  been  sung  at  the 
meeting  of  the  Freemasons'  Lodge,  Tarbolton,  held  in  June,  1786.  Until 
superseded  by  Burns's  Auld  Lang  Syne,  Good  night  and  joy  be  -wi"  you  was  the 
parting  song  at  all  social  meetings  in  Scotland.  A  number  of  the  chief  collec- 
tions of  Scottish  Melodies  close  with  the  tune.  The  distinguished  song- writers 


V.     BACCHANALIAN    AND    SOCIAL  443 

of  Scotland,  Joanna  Baillie,  Susanna  Blamire,  and  Sir  Alexander  Boswell,  have 
each  written  verses  for  the  tune.  Burns  had  a  high  appreciation  of  the  melody, 
and  in  a  letter  to  George  Thomson  of  April  7,  1793,  in  a  burst  of  enthusiasm 
thus  writes  :  '  Ballad-making  is  now  as  completely  my  hobby-horse  as  ever 
fortification  was  Uncle  Toby's  ;  so  I'll  e'en  canter  it  away  till  I  come  to  the 
limit  of  my  race,  and  then  cheerfully  looking  back  on  the  honest  folks  with 
whom  I  have  been  happy,  I  shall  say,  or  sing  Sae  merry  as  we  a'  hoe  been, 
and  raising  my  last  looks  to  the  whole  human  race,  the  last  words  of  the  voice 
of  Coila  shall  be  Good  night  and  joy  be  wi1  you  d '.' 

The  authority  to  insert  the  song  in  Johnson's  Mitseum  was  conveyed  in 
these  words :  '  Let  this  be  your  last  song  of  all  in  the  collection  and  set  it  to 
the  old  words;  and  after  them  insert  my  Gude  night  and  joy  be  wi'  you  a' 
which  you  will  find  in  my  Poems.  The  old  words  are : — 


What  I  hae  done,  for  lake  o'  wit, 

I  never,  never  can  reca' ; 
I  trust  ye  're  a'  my  friends  as  yet, 

Glide  night  and  joy  be  wi  you  d '.' 


'  The  night  is  my  departing  night, 

The  morn 's  the  day  I  maun  awa  ; 
There 's  no  a  friend  or  fae  o'  mine 

But  wishes  that  I  were  awa. 
Johnson  followed  strictly  the  instructions  of  Burns. 

The  tune  is  in  the  Skene  MS.,  c.  1630,  entitled,  Good  night,  and  God  be  with 
you  ;  in  Playford's  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1 700 ;  in  a  MS.  dated  Glasgow, 
1710;  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  32;  and  Aird's  Airs, 
1782,  ii.  No.  200.  The  tune  has  been  considerably  altered  since  its  first 
appearance  in  the  Skene  MS. 

No.  241.  Up  wi5  the  carls  o'  Dysart.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  392,  to  the  tune  Hey  ca  thro1 ;  Edinburgh  edition,  1877,  ii.  68.  On 
September  15,  1787,  Burns  slept  at  Kinross,  and  next  day  came  through  a  cold 
barren  country  by  Queensferry  to  Edinburgh.  The  four  fishing  villages  named 
in  the  song  are  close  to  one  another  on  the  south  coast  of  Fife.  No  version 
of  the  song  was  known  until  it  appeared  in  the  Museum.  It  has  been  accepted 
as  the  work  of  Burns  on  the  authority  of  Stenhouse,  but  it  is  not  among  the 
Burns  manuscripts  in  the  British  Museum. 

The  melody  of  a  'Boat  song/  Hey  ca'  thro1,  is  a  characteristic  small  pipe 
tune,  in  compound  triple  time,  common  to  the  Border.  The  music,  which 
Burns  is  said  to  have  communicated  when  he  sent  the  verses,  is  not  in  any 
collection  prior  to  the  copy  in  the  Museum. 

No.  242.  Gare  is  the  day,  and  mirk's  the  night.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  jij,  signed  'B,'  entitled,    Then   Gudewife,  count  the  lawin.     The 
MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.     In  the  Interleaved  Museiim  is :  '  The  chorus 
of  this  is  part  of  an  old  song,  one  stanza  of  which  I  recollect : — 
"Every  day  my  wife  tells  me, 
That  ale  and  brandy  will  ruin  me ; 
But  if  gude  liquor  be  my  dead, 
This  shall  be  written  on  my  head, 

O  Gudewife,  count  the  lawin,"  &c.' 

Burns's  song  is  worthy  of  Walter  de  Mapes,  the  sprightly  monk  of  the  twelfth 
century  who  wrote  Mihi  est  propositum  in  taberna  mori.  According  to 
Stenhouse,  Burns  obtained  the  tune  from  tradition  and  had  it  printed  in  the 
Museum.  It  is  a  bright  and  joyous  melody,  which  ought  to  be  better  known. 

The  well-known  obscure  proverb, '  As  drunk  as  a  lord,'  is  evidently  a  corrup- 
tion of  the  last  line  of  the  second  stanza  in  this  song,  '  For  ilka  man  that 's 
drunk  's  a  lord,'  which  is  quite  a  different  phrase  from  the  common  saying. 

No.  243.  Come,  bumpers  high !  express  your  joy  !  Lockhart's  Life  of 
Burns,  1829.  Written  for  William  Stewart,  resident  factor  or  bailiff  of  the 
estate  of  Closeburn  in  Dumfries,  with  whom  Burns  became  acquainted  in  his 
business  excursions.  The  sister  of  Stewart  was  landlady  of  Brownhill  Inn,  in 


444  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

the  neighbourhood  of  Thornhill  on  the  Nith,  where  the  poet  sometimes  stayed, 
and  where  he  wrote  the  verses  on  a  glass  tumbler  which  is  now  in  the  library 
at  Abbotsford. 

The  tune  Ye  're  welcome,  Charlie  Stewart  is  referred  to  in"  Song  No.  26. 

No.  244.  Contented  wi'  little  and  cantie  wi'  mair.  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1799,  6j,  'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.  Air,  Lumps  o' 
pudding?  The  MS.  is  in  the  Thomson  collection.  Burns  accepted  Thomson's 
proposal  to  write  a  song  for  the  tune  about  the  middle  of  November,  1794. 
In  May,  1795,  Thomson  had  presented  to  Burns  a  painting  of  The  Cottar's 
Saturday  night,  by  David  Allan,  in  which  the  poet  figured.  Burns,  in  thanking 
the  donor,  suggested  that  if  a  vignette  were  made  the  motto  should  be,  Con- 
tented wi'  little  and  cantie  wi '  mair,  '  in  order  that  the  portrait  of  my  face 
and  the  picture  of  my  mind  may  go  down  the  stream  of  Time  together.' 

The  tune  known  as  Lumps  of  Pudding  or  Sweet  Pudding  is  in  the  Dancing 
Master,  1701  ;  Sinkler's  MS.,  1710;  and  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
c-  J755>  v"-  4-  Verses  and  the  music  are  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1720,  joo.  In 
Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii.  221,  a  vernacular  humorous  song  is  marked  for 
the  tune,  showing  that  this  English  melody  was  domesticated  in  Scotland.  The 
subject  is  not  an  uncommon  satire  in  Scottish  song.  The  last  stanza  of  the 
Herd  fragment  is : — 

'  As  I  gaed  by  the  minister's  yard, 

I  spied  the  minister  kissing  his  maid. 

Gin  ye  winna  believe,  cum  here  and  see 

Sic  a  braw  new  coat  the  minister  gied  me.' 

No.  245.  I  had  sax  owsen  in  a  pleugh.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1803, 
No.  J42,  '  Corrected  by  R.  Burns.'  '  This  humorous  drinking-song,  with  the 
exception  of  the  chorus  which  is  old,  was  written  by  Burns'  (Stenhouse, 
Illustrations,  p.  473).  Ale  was  the  common  beverage  and  even  an  article  of 
food  of  the  people  of  Scotland.  Home-brewed  small  beer  and  oatmeal  porridge 
were  the  diet  of  the  peasantry  within  living  memory. 

The  tune  The  bottom  of  the  punch-bowl  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1 743, 
i.  29 ;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742, 13;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  yj. 


VI.    THE  JOLLY  BEGGARS.— A  CANTATA. 

(Nos.  246-253.)  Poems  ascribed  to  Robert  Burns,  1801,  i ;  Cromek's  Scotish 
Songs,  1810,  ii.  233.  This  remarkable  composition  was  written  about  the  end 
of  1785.  Nowhere  is  the  genius  of  Burns  more  displayed  than  in  this  description 
of  the  lowest  stratum  of  human  life,  and  the  portraiture  of  the  individuals 
composing  the  society  of  the  most  depraved  Bohemians.  One  true  function  of 
art  is  to  provoke  sympathy  with  all  animated  nature,  and  Burns  was  the  first 
poet  of  his  century  who  cast  aside  the  artificial  Damons  and  Celias  of  song  and 
the  affectations  of  the  rhymer ;  he  stepped  out  into  the  field  of  nature,  saw  it  with 
a  clear  open  eye,  gauged  it  with  a  sound  mind,  and  depicted  it  with  the  feeling 
that  he  was  a  part  of  the  great  scheme.  No  poet  before  him — except  Cowper — 
sang  of  the  weeds,  the  flowers,  and  the  lower  animals  as  subjects  of  affectionate 
regard.  Burns's  Deil  was  a  human  spirit  who  spoke  '  broad  Scots,'  with  whom 
he  could  converse  in  familiar  terms,  and  from  whom  he  parted  on  the  best  of 
terms,  hoping  he  •  will  tak  a  thocht  and  mend.' 

The  Jolly  Beggars  is  a  sordid  scene  of  the  dregs  of  humanity.  The  ragged 
crew  are  spending  their  precarious  earnings  in  the  most  reckless  manner.  The 
microscopic  analysis  of  the  company,  and  the  humorous  portraits  of  the  indi- 
viduals of  the  group,  are  so  exquisitely  real,  that  a  sneaking  kindness  is  felt  for 
the  social  outcasts.  How  the  poem  originated  may  be  briefly  told.  On  a  winter 


VI.     THE    JOLLY    BEGGARS  445 

night  of  1785,  Burns  and  two  companions  left  the  house  of  an  innkeeper  and 
brother  rhymer — Johnie  Dow — and  made  their  way  through  Mauchline.  They 
were  passing  the  door  of  a  small  dingy  public-house,  in  a  narrow  street,  kept 
by  a  Mrs.  Gibson,  better  known  as  Poosie  Nansy,  noted  for  entertaining  and 
lodging  vagrants ;  her  assistant  in  the  business  was  a  putative  daughter  known 
as  Racer  Jess ',  from  her  fleetness  of  foot  and  love  of  running.  Sounds  of 
merriment  proceeded  from  the  house  as  Burns  and  his  companions  passed; 
they  ventured  in  and  joined  the  company.  They  did  not  remain  long,  but 
quite  long  enough  for  Burns,  who  in  a  few  days  read  to  John  Richmond— one 
of  the  three  in  the  adventure — some  verses  on  the  subject,  and  shortly  after- 
wards presented  him  with  a  portion  of  the  manuscript.  When  finished  the 
poem  was  given  away,  and  so  little  did  Burns  think  of  it,  that  in  a  few  years 
he  had  forgotten  its  existence.  Only  one  reference  to  it  is  in  his  correspondence, 
and  that  in  reply  to  an  inquiry  made  in  September,  1793,  when  George  Thomson 
asked  for  a  reading  of  the  poem ;  he  had  heard  of  it  casually,  perhaps  through 
Richmond,  who  was  then  resident  in  Edinburgh.  Burns  replied,  '  I  have  forgot 
the  Cantata  you  allude  to,  as  I  kept  no  copy,  and  indeed  did  not  know  that  it 
was  in  existence ;  however,  I  remember  that  none  of  the  songs  pleased  myself, 
except  the  last,  something  about : — 

'Courts  for  cowards  were  erected, 
Churches  built  to  please  the  priest.' 

Nothing  more  was  heard  of  The  Jolly  Beggars  during  the  poet's  life,  nor  until 
it  appeared  in  a  Glasgow  Chap-Book,.  issued  in  1799.  The  demand  was  so 
great,  that  the  publisher  reprinted  it  in  1801,  in  a  thin  octavo  volume  with 
other  unpublished  pieces,  as  ' Poems  ascribed  to  Robert  Burns  the  Ayrshire  Poet? 
&c.  In  this  volume,  with  The  Jolly  Beggars,  appeared  for  the  first  time  The 
KirKs  Alarm,  The  twa  Herds,  Holy-  Willie's  Prayer,  and  some  minor  pieces. 
The  extraordinary  power  displayed  in  these  poems  attracted  the  attention  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  had  the  volume  reprinted,  and  a  few  years  later, 
in  the  Quarterly  Review,  castigated  both  Dr.  Currie  and  Cromek  for  refusing 
to  publish  The  Jolly  Beggars.  The  latter  defended  himself  on  moral  grounds — 
to  protect  the  fame  of  Robert  Burns,  as  he  said — and  to  prove  bis  sincerity  in 
the  cause  of  morality,  he  printed  The  Jolly  Beggars  in  the  appendix  to  his 
Scotish  Songs  \  Our  text  is  taken  from  the  facsimile  of  Burns's  MS.,  published 
in  1823. 

Burns  appears  to  have  got  the  idea  of  The  Jolly  Beggars  from  a  song  of  seven 
stanzas  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Tea-  Table  Miscellany,  entitled  The  merry 
Beggars — of  which  there  are  six — a  poet,  a  lawyer,  a  soldier,  a  courtier,  a 
fiddler,  and  a  preacher.  Each  of  the  characters  sings  a  stanza.  The  fiddler  as 
follows : — 

'I  still  am  a  merry  gut-scraper, 
My  heart  never  yet  felt  a  qualm ; 

Tho'  poor,  I  can  frolic  and  vapour, 
And  sing  any  tune  but  a  psalm.' 

The  verses  are  not  devoid  of  merit.  A  copious  assortment  of  canting  and 
begging  metrical  literature  are  in  the  notes  on  the  Jolly  Beggars,  in  the 
'  Centenary  edition '  of  Burns.  From  what  has  been  said  it  is  obvious  that 
Burns  never  intended  to  publish  The  Jolly  Beggars.  He,  however,  copied 
most  of  the  songs  into  his  Merry  Muses. 

No.  246.  I  am  a  son  of  Mars.  The  tune  Soldiers  Joy  is  in  Joshua 
Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  j6 ;  McGlashan's  Scots  Measures,  1781,  ja;  and  in 
Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  109.  It  is  still  reprinted  in  modern  collections  of 
popular  music,  and  is  a  favourite  with  country  fiddlers.  I  first  heard  the 
air  played  by  a  pitman  in  the  parlour  of  a  Northumbrian  inn  before  I  discovered 
it  in  print.  One  of  the  editors  of  Burns  mistook  the  melody  and  brought 


446 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


a  charge  of  carelessness  against  the  poet  in  writing  for  particular  tunes.  The 
charge  does  not  hold  good;  for  the  verses,  'I  am  a  son  of  Mars,'  have  not 
until  now  been  printed  with  the  proper  melody,  and  it  fits  the  verses  exactly. 
No.  247.  I  once  was  a  maid.  Tune,  Sodger  Laddie.  The  verses  are  in 
the  Merry  Muses  or  Crochallan  Song  Book.  The  music  is  in  Atkinsoifs  MS., 
1694,  and  Sinklers  MS.,  1710,  entitled  Northland  ladie.  A  song  in  the 
Tea-  Table  Miscellany,  partly  by  Ramsay,  beginning,  '  My  soger  laddie  is  over 
the  sea,'  was  reprinted  with  music  in  Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1731,  vi.  no, 
and  copied  into  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  27.  The  music  is  also 
in  Bremner's  Keels,  1757,  22.  During  the  eighteenth  century  the  tune  was  very 
popular  in  Scotland,  and  often  reprinted.  In  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  ij,  it  is 
entitled  Sailor  laddie.  Burns  made  a  song  with  this  title  for  The  Jolly  Beggars ; 
probably  he  may  have  got  the  idea  from  the  •  title  of  the  tune  in  Stewart.  In 
the  version  printed  by  Cromek,  the  third  line  of  the  second  stanza  of  the 
Recitative  to  the  bard's  song,  a  '  sailor '  instead  of  a  fiddler  is  named. 

No.  248.  Sir  Wisdom 's  a  fool  when  he 's  fou.  Tune,  Auld  Sir  Symon. 
This  English  melody,  assigned  to  the  man  of  the  cap  and  bells,  is  above  three 
hundred  years  old,  and  is  well  known  on  both  sides  of  the  Border.  Its  title 
appears  first  in  a  Scottish  collection  with  the  song,  Come,  here^s  to  the  nymph 
that  I  love,  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1724,  and  later  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 
1769,  /?,  to  Some  say  that  kissing"1*  a  sin.  It  is  the  tune  of  the  Elizabethan 
ballad  Ragged  and  torn,  and  must  necessarily  be  older  than  these  verses. 
Ritson  considered  it  one  of  the  '  Ancient  ballads '  referred  to  by  Laneham  as 
being  in  the  bundle  of  Captain  Cox,  the  Coventry  mason.  In  the  seventeenth 
century,  a  large  number  of  ballads  were  sung  in  London  to  Old  Symon  the 
King,  and  Chappell,  in  Popular  Music,  p.  262,  quotes  five  different  names  by 
which  it  was  known.  It  served  moral,  political,  social,  and  bacchanalian 
songs,  but  chiefly  the  latter.  'Symon  the  King'  is  supposed  to  have  been 
a  noted  tavern-keeper  who  kept  good  liquor,  and  sampled  it  often  himself. 

'Says  Old  Symon  the  King, 
Says  Old  Symon  the  King, 

With  his  ale-dropt  hose,  and  his  malmsey  nose, 
Sing  hey  ding,  ding  a  ding  ding.' 

A  political  song  with  this  chorus  is  in  Loyal  Songs,  1685,  149.  The 
earliest  copy  of  the  music  is  in  Mustek's  Recreation,  1652.  The  tune  is 
also  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1707,  and  in  the  1719  edition,  iii.  143,  set  to  a  ballad 
rather  less  coarse  than  usual  for  that  remarkable  collection.  The  music  was 
published  in  a  Scottish  collection  in  Oswald's  Companion,  c.  I755>  yii-  ^>  and 
in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  102.  Two  songs  in  the  Merry  Muses 
are  directed  to  be  sung  to  Auld  Sir  Symon  the  King. 

No.  249.  A  Highland  lad  my  love  was  born.  Tune,  0,  an  ye  were 
dead,  guidman.  See  note  on  Song  No.  214.  Stenhouse  says  he  copied  this 
tune  from  an  old  manuscript,  which  he  does  not,  however,  further  specify. 
A  song  of  the  kind  was  popular  "in  Scotland  at  the  Reformation,  for  it  is 
parodied  in  the  Gude  and  Goalie  Ballads,  1567,  of  which  the  following  stanza 
is  a  specimen : — 

'For  our  Gude-man  in  heaven  dois  ring, 

In  gloir  and  blis  without  ending, 
Quhair  Angellis  singis  ever  Osan, 

In  laude  and  praise  of  our  Gude-man.' 

The  first  part  of  the  tune  resembles  the  second  phrase  of  the  Duke  of 
BuccleucKs  Tune,  in  the  sixth  edition  of  Apollo's  Banquet,  1690,  and  com- 
plete in  the  Dancing  Master,  1709.  It  is  also  in  Macfarlanes  MS.,  1741 ;  in 
Oswald's  Companion,  1752,  iv.  24,  and  McGlashan's  Scots  Measures,  1781,  7, 
entitled  Watsons  Scots  Measure. 


I 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  447 

No.  250.  Let  me  ryke  up  to  dight  that  tear.  Tune,  Whistle  owre  the 
lave  o't.  A  copy  of  the  minstrel's  song  is  in  the  Merry  Muses.  See  note  on 
Song  No.  209.  m 

No.  251.  My  bonie  lass,  I  work  in  brass.  Tune,  Clout  the  Caudron. 
The  earliest  imprint  of  the  title  and  subject  in  a  Scottish  collection,  is  that  in 
the  Tea- Table  Miscellany,  1724,  beginning: — 


'Have  you  any  pots  or  pans, 
Or  any  broken  chandlers? 
I  am  a  tinkler  to  my  trade, 
And  newly  come  frae  Flanders, 


As  scant  of  siller  as  of  grace, 
Disbanded,  we  've  a  bad  run, 
Gae  tell  the  lady  of  the  place, 
I'm  come  to  clout  her  caldron.' 


But  the  original  is  much  older.  As  The  Tinker  it  was  printed  in  the  very 
rare  collection,  Merry  Drollery,  London,  1661,  134,  in  seventeen  stanzas, 
beginning  —  '  There  was  a  lady  in  this  land.'  The  third  stanza  will  show  the 
connexion  with  Ramsay's  version  :  — 


'  I  am  a  Tinker,  then  quoth  he, 
That  worketh  for  my  fee, 

If  you  have  vessels  for  to  mend, 
Then  bring  them  unto  me : 


For  I  have  brass  within  my  bag, 

And  target  in  my  apron, 
And  with  my  skill  I  can  well  clout, 

And  mend  a  broken  cauldron.' 


The  following  note  is  in  the  Interleaved  Museum,  but  it  is  not  written  by 
Burns :  '  I  have  met  with  another  tradition  that  the  old  song  to  this  tune, 
"  Hae  ye  ony  pots  or  pans  or  onie  broken  chanlers,"  was  composed  on  one  of 
the  Kenmore  family  in  the  cavalier  times.  .  .  .  The  air  is  also  known  by  the 
name  of  The  Blacksmith  and  his  apron?  The  note  is  probably  by  Robert 
Riddell.  The  song  in  Merry  Drollery,  just  quoted,  is  indisputably  an  English 
song.  The  Scottish  version  was  printed  for  the  first  time  with  music  in  the 
Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  sj.  The  copy  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1787,  No.  23,  is  that  in  the  text. 

No.  252.  I  am  a  bard,  of  no  regard.  Tune,  For  a'  that,  ari  a1  that. 
The  verses  in  the  Cantata  are  far  superior  to  the  so-called  variant-song,  No.  68. 
The  tune  is  noted  in  Song  No.  309. 

No.  253.  See  the  smoking  bowl  before  us.  Tune,  Jolly  mortals,  Jill 
your  glasses.  There  are  two  tunes  of  this  name — both  English — set  to  a 
drinking-song  in  three  stanzas.  One  is  the  composition  of  John  Ernest 
Galliard  (1687-1749),  a.  distinguished  oboe  player,  and  chamber  musician  to 
Prince  George  of  Denmark.  He  had  the  gift  of  melody,  and  composed  a 
number  of  good  airs.  The  music  is  in  Calliope,  1739,  and  Watts's  Musical 
Miscellany,  1731,  vi.  182.  The  other  and  older  air  in  the  text  is  from  Ritson's 
English  Songs,  London,  1783,  vol.  iii.  Galliard's  tune  as  arranged  in  Watts 
does  not  fit  Burns's  song  very  well,  and  the  other  is  probably  that  which  Burns 
intended. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC  AND  POLITICAL. 

No.  254.  Amang  the  trees,  where  humming  bees.  Cromek's  Reliques, 
1808,  453.  Tune,  The  King  of  France,  he  rade  a  race.  Niel  Gow  is  the 
'  fiddler  in  the  North '  referred  to  in  the  song.  The  sarcasm  on  foreign  music 
was  intended  to  cool  the  rage  for  Italian  compositions  and  vocalists  that 
invaded  the  country  before  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  capon 
craws  of  Farinelli,  who  was  the  lion  of  the  operatic  stage,  stigmatized  as  one 
of  the  castrati,  is  sarcastic  enough.  The  '  royal  ghaist '  refers  to  James  I  of 
Scotland,  who  was  detained  a  prisoner  in  England  for  nineteen  years.  The 
royal  author  of  The  Kings  Quair  was  a  distinguished  poet  and  an  accomplished 
musician.  Hogg  quotes  an  unintelligible  Jacobite  song  beginning  '  The  King  of 


448 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


France  he  rade  a  race,'  which  may  have  been  the  model  of  Burns.     The  second 

stanza  is  : — 

'But  there  cam  a  fiddler  out  o'  Fife, 


A  blink  beyond  Balwearie,  O, 
And  he  has  coft  a  gully  knife 
To  gie  the  Whigs  a  bleary,  O. 


This  fiddler  cam  wi'  sword  and  lance, 
And  a'  his  links  o'  leary,  O, 

To  learn  the  Whigs  a  morice  dance 
That  they  lov'd  wondrous  deary,  O.' 


The  tune  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1756,  viii.  26,  and 
Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  77,  but  it  was  printed  previously  in  Bremner's  Reels, 
1757,  /,  under  the  title  Lady  Doll  Sinclair's  Reel.  The  melody  is  very  little 
known,  and  Burns's  song  is  here  for  the  first  time  printed  with  its  tune. 

No.  255.  Scots,  wha  liae  wi5  "Wallace  bled.  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  7^, 
'  WTritten  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns.'  Two  different  accounts  exist  of  the 
origin  of  Scots,  wha  hae.  Syme,  the  distributer  of  Government  stamps  in 
Dumfries,  an  intimate  friend  and  neighbour  of  Burns,  communicated  to 
Dr.  Currie  a  graphic  account  of  a  short  excursion  Burns  and  he  made  through 
Galloway  in  the  end  of  July,  1793.  In  traversing  Kenmure,  the  savage  scenery 
and  desolate  appearance  was  intensified  by  bad  weather.  '  Next  day,'  Syme 
says.  '  he  produced  me  the  Address  of  Bruce  to  his  troops,  and  gave  me  a  copy 
for  Dalziel.'  According  to  this  statement  related  in  Currie,  Works,  1800,  i.  209, 
21),  Scots,  iuha  hae  was  written  and  completed  between  July  28  and  30,  1793. 
Burns's  own  account  is  contained  in  a  letter  to  Thomson,  assigned  to  September  I, 
1793,  enclosing  a  copy  of  the  ode.  I  quote  the  entire  letter,  as  it  formulates 
Burns's  impressions  of  music.  '  My  dear  Sir, — You  know  that  my  pretensions  to 
musical  taste  are  merely  a  few  of  nature's  instincts,  untaught  and  untutored  by  art. 
For  this  reason,  many  musical  compositions,  particularly  where  much  of  the 
merit  lies  in  counterpoint,  however  they  may  transport  and  ravish  the  ears  of  you 
connoisseurs,  affect  my  simple  lug  no  otherwise  than  merely  as  melodious  din. 
On  the  other  hand,  byway  of  amends,  I  am  delighted  with  many  little  melodies, 
which  the  learned  musician  despises  as  silly  and  insipid.  I  do  not  know  whether 
the  old  air  Hey,  tutti,  taitie  may  rank  among  this  number ;  but  well  I  know 
that  with  Fraser's  hautboy,  it  has  often  filled  my  eyes  with  tears.  There  is  a 
tradition  which  I  have  met  with  in  many  places  in  Scotland,  that  it  was  Robert 
Bruce's  march  at  the  battle  of  Bannockburn.  This  thought,  in  my  yesternight's 
evening  walk,  warmed  me  to  a  pitch  of  enthusiasm  on  the  theme  of  liberty  and 
independence,  which  I  threw  into  a  kind  of  Scots  Ode,  fitted  to  the  air,  that 
one  might  suppose  to  be  the  gallant  royal  Scot's  address  to  his  heroic  followers 
on  that  eventful  morning.  So  may  God  ever  defend  the  cause  of  Truth  and 
Liberty,  as  He  did  that  day.  Amen !  R.  B.  P.S. — I  shewed  the  air  to  Urbani, 
who.  was  highly  pleased  with  it  and  begged  me  make  soft  verses  for  it ;  but  I  had 
no  idea  of  giving  myself  any  trouble  on  the  subject,  till  the  accidental 
recollection  of  that  glorious  struggle  for  Freedom,  associated  with  the  glowing 
ideas  of  some  other  struggles  of  the  same  nature,  not  quite  so  ancient,  roused 
my  rhyming  mania.  Clarke's  set  of  the  tune,  with  his  bass,  you  will  find  in  the 
Museum,  though  I  am  afraid  that  the  air  is  not  what  will  entitle  it  to  a  place 
in  your  elegant  selection.'  From  this  letter  several  inferences  may  be  drawn  : 
first,  that  Burns  suspected  Thomson  would  not  care  for  the  tune  Hey,  tiitti, 
taitie ;  second,  that  professional  musicians  considered  it  a  pathetic  air ;  and 
third,  that  the  French  revolution  was  a  cause  of  the  origin  of  Scots,  wha  hae. 

Dr.  Currie  made  no  attempt  to  decide  when  the  song  was  written,  and  the 
subject  is  not  of  vital  importance  here.  When  Burns  sent  it  to  Thomson  he 
may  have  finally  drawn  it  up  and  corrected  it  fit  for  the  press.  As  we  know, 
he  took  an  active  interest  in  the  stirring  drama  of  the  French  Revolution,  and 
it  is  interesting  to  remember  that  the  struggles  of  the  same  nature, '  not  quite  so 
ancient,'  produced  a  much  more  famous  song  in  France.  The  Chant  de  guerre 
pour  Farmfe  du  Rhin,  better  known  as  The  Marseillaise  Hymn,  was  written 
and  composed  at  Strasburg,  by  Rouget  de  Lisle,  a  Captain  of  Engineers  in  the 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  449 

French  Army,  between  the  night  of  the  25th  and  the  morning-  of  the  26th  April, 
1792,  or  about  seventeen  months  before  Burns  wrote  Scots  who.  hae  to  com- 
memorate an  event  more  than  five  hundred  years  old. 

It  must  be  told  how  Burns's  song  was  criticized,  revised,  altered,  and  finally 
printed  in  a  different  rhythm  and  to  a  wrong  tune.  Thomson  having  shown  it 
to  some  friends,  they  agreed  as  to  the  merit  of  the  verses,  but '  reprobated  the 
idea  of  giving  it  a  tune  so  utterly  devoid  of  interest  or  grandeur  as  Hey,  tutti, 
taitie ' ;  saying  further,  '  I  never  heard  any  one  speak  of  it  as  worthy  of  notice.' 
Thomson  and  the  committee  of  taste  decided  that  the  poet  must  have  created 
some  fanciful  partiality  for  the  air  through  connexion  with  the  tradition 
concerning  it,  which  was  nearly  correct,  but  not  in  the  sense  they  meant ;  and 
then  they  proceeded  to  suggest  what  they  thought  as  a  more  appropriate 
melody — Lewie  Gordon ;  but  as  its  measure  differed,  they  recommended  that 
a  foot  should  be  added  to  every  fourth  line  of  the  song,  thus  : — Stanza  i,  Or  to 
glorious  victory;  2,  Chains,  chains  and  slavery;  3,  .Let  him,  let  him  turn 
and  flee ;  4,  Let  him  bravely  follow  me  ;  5,  But  they  shall,  they  shall  be 
free;  6,  Let  us,  let  us  do  or  die.  What  was  Burns  to  do?  he  had  not  a 
single  supporter;  every  one  disapproved  of  his  tune — that  melody  for  which 
the  song  was  specially  written,  and  over  which  he  had  wept  when  Fraser  played 
it.  Professional  musicians,  editor,  and  committee  had  declared  Hey, tutti,  taitie 
unsuitable,  so  he  succumbed  and  agreed  to  alter  the  verses  as  suggested — in 
his  own  way.  Thomson,  having  affected  a  material  and  emasculated  alteration, 
proceeded  to  suggest  further  amendments  but  Burns  now  lost  patience, 
straightened  himself,  and  sent  an  ultimatum  in  the  following  terms:  'My  Ode 
pleases  me  so  much,  that  I  cannot  alter  it.  Your  proposed  alterations  would, 
in  my  opinion,  make  it  tame.  I  am  exceedingly  obliged  to  you  for  putting  me 
on  reconstructing  it,  as  I  think  I  have  much  improved  it,  ...  I  have  scrutinised 
it  over  and  over ;  and  to  the  world  some  way  or  other,  it  shall  go  as  it  is.' 
This  closed  the  correspondence  on  the  subject.  Scots  wha  hae,  as  reconstructed, 
completely  reversed  Burns's  invariable  method  of  writing  with  the  sound  of 
some  favourite  melody  ringing  in  his  ears.  The  verses  originally  appeared  in 
the  London  Morning  Chronicle,  May,  1794-  Thomson  printed  them  with  the 
tune  Lewie  Gordon,  in  Scotish  Airs,  1 799,  74  ;  or  three  years  after  Burns's  death. 

The  public  learnt  from  Currie,  in  Works,  1800,  the  struggle  for  existence  of 
the  Ode  of  Burns,  and  how  the  song  had  been  altered ;  and  demanded  that  the 
original  words  should  be  printed  with  its  own  tune.  Thomson  admitted  his 
error  and  reprinted  the  song  in  his  next  volume,  in  1801,  ijj,  with  a  note  that 
he  thought  that  '  Hey,  tutti,  taitie  pave  more  energy  to  the  words  than  Lewie 
Gordon?  The  original  draft  in  Burns's  handwriting — that  which  he  wrote  on 
August  31,  1793 — belonged  to  the  late  Frederick  Lockyer,  the  author  of 
London  Lyrics. 

Hey,  tutti,  taitie  or  Hey  now  the  day  dawes,  the  tune  of  Scots  wha  hae, 
requires  an  exposition  in  order  to  get  rid  of  some  misconception  regarding  its 
origin.  There  is  no  evidence  supporting  the  tradition  that  it  was  played  at 
Bannockburn,  although  one  of  the  earliest  fragments  of  Scottish  song  existing 
is  in  the  peculiar  rhythm  of  the  tune.  In  the  Book  of  St.  Albans — a  chronicle 
relating  to  the  time  of  Robert  the  Bruce— the  stanza  of  a  contemporary 
satirical  song  is  quoted  on  the  flamboyant  dress  of  the  officers  of  the  English 
army  who  kept  the  country  in  check  at  that  period.  I  quote  in  modern 
English  :  '  At  that  time  the  Englishmen  were  clothed  all  in  coats  and  hoods 
painted  with  letters,  and  with  flowers  full  seemly,  with  long  beards  :  and 
therefore  the  Scots  made  a  rhyme  that  was  fastened  upon  the  Church  doors  of 
St.  Peter  towards  Stangate  (York).  And  thus  said  the  scripture  in  despite 
of  Englishmen : — 

"Longe  berdes  hertles, 

Payntyd  hodes  wytles, 
Gay  cotes  graceles, 

Makyth  Englond  thrifteles." ' 


450  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

In  Fabyan's  Chronicle  the  same  verses  are  repeated,  but  they  are  assigned  to 
the  time  of  David  Bruce  when  he  married  the  English  Princess.  « To  their 
more  derision,  they — the  Scots — made  divers  truffes,  rounds  and  songs,  against 
the  English.' 

In  Dunbar's  poem  To  the  Merchants  of  Edinburgh,  written  about  the  year 
1500,  a  couplet  runs  :— 

'Your  common  menstrallis  hes  no  tone 
But  Now  the  day  dawis,  and  Into  J one? 

The  common  minstrels  in  Scotland  were  the  Corporation  pipers,  maintained 
at  the  public  expense.  They  were  lodged  by  the  householders  in  succession, 
and  about  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  Edinburgh  appears  to  have  supported 
three.  Any  one  who  found  it  inconvenient  to  billet  them  in  their  turn  was 
liable  to  pay  ninepence,  'That  is  to  ilk  pyper  iiid  at  the  leist.'  A  tune 
was  popular  in  the  time,  of  Gavin  Douglas.  In  the  prologue  of  the  I3th  book 
of  his  translation  of  Virgil,  printed  in  1513,  these  lines  occur: — 

'  Tharto  thir  byrdis  singis  in  the  shawis 

As  menstralis  playing,   Thejoly  day  now  dawes' 

In  the  Fayrfax  MSS.  (Addl.  MS.  5465),  a  collection  of  English  songs  by 
different  composers  of  the  latter  part  of  the  fifteenth  and  beginning  of  the 
sixteenth  centuries — is  a  song  written  in  honour  of  Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of 
Henry  VII,  entitled,  This  day  dawes,  this  gentill  day,  with  music  for  three 
voices. 

One  of  Alexander  Montgomery's  poems,  Hey  now  the  day  dawis,  supposed  to 
have  been  written  before  1 580,  resembles  a  popular  song  : — 


'  Hey  now  the  day  dawis, 
The  jolly  cock  craw  is, 

Now  shrouds  the  shawis, 
Through  nature  anone : 


The  thrissel  cock  cryis, 
Or  lovers  quha  lyis 

Now  skaillis  the  skyis, 
The  nicht  is  neir  gone.' 


Montgomery's  song  was  probably  modelled  from  an  earlier  type  parodied  in 
the  Quae  and  Godlie  Ballads,  beginning,  'Hay  now  the  day  dawes,'  every 
stanza  closing  with  'the  nicht  is  neir  gone' — the  identical  line  used  by 
Montgomery.  The  following  stanza  ridicules  the  saving  efficacy  of  the  bone  of 
St.. Giles'  arm,  once  the  palladium  of  the  Parish  Church  of  Edinburgh  : — 

'Ye  beguiled  us  with  your  hoods, 
Shawing  your  relics  and  your  roods, 
To  pluck  fra  us  poor  men  our  goods, 

Ye  shaw  us  the  heid  of  St.  John 
With  the  arme  of  St.  Geill ; 
To  rottan  banes  ye  gart  us  kneill, 
And  savit  us  frae  neck  to  heill, 

The  nicht  is  neir  gane.' 

Hey  now  the  day  dawnes  is  designated  a  celebrated  old  song  in  The  Muses 
Threnodie,  written  in  the  reign  of  James  VI,  on  the  local  affairs  of  Perth. 

In  The  Piper  of  KilbarcKan,  a  humorous  poem  in  Scots  metre,  the  tune  is 
named  as  one  which  Habbie  Simson  played.  Robert  Semple,  the  author,  lived 
between  1595  and  1665,  and  the  poem  belongs  to  the  first  quarter  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  A  stanza  is : — 

'Now  who  shall  play  the  Day  it  DaWsl 
Or  Hunts  up  when  the  cock  he  craws? 
Or  who  can  for  our  Kirktown  cause, 

Stand  us  in  stead? 
On  bagpipes  now  no  body  blaws 

Sen  Habbie  's  dead/ 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  451 

Kirkpatrick  Sharpe  contributed  to  Stenhouse's  Illustrations  the  copy  of 
a  local  Annandale  hunting  song.  In  the  first  stanza  the  well  known  refrain  is 
introduced : — 

*The  cock's  at  the  crawing, 
The  day.'s  at  the  da  wing, 
The  cock  's  at  the  crawing, 
We're  o'er  lang  here.' 

Lastly,  the  concluding  stanza  of  the  bacchanalian  Landlady ,  count  the  lawin, 
Song  No.  227,  contains  the  lines  so  often  quoted  : — 

'Landlady  count  the  lawin 

The  day  is  near  the  dawin,'  &c. 

Stenhouse  erroneously  assumed  that  the  music  of  the  song  in  the  Fayrfax  MS. 
was  that  of  Hey,  tutti,  taitie.  Neither  is  The  day  ddwis  in  Straloctis  MS., 
1627,  the  tune  of  Hey,  tutti,  taitie,  which  from  its  construction  may  well 
be  accounted  an  ancient  melody,  although  the  music  is  not  in  any  collection 
prior  to  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751,  Hi.  ij.  It  is  also  in 
McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1755,  }} ;  and  with  the  Ode  in  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1801.  For  another  set  of  the  air,  see  Song  No.  227.  The  Rebellion  doubt- 
less brought  it  into  more  prominent  notice,  which  would  account  for  its  publica- 
tion, but  that  it  was  played  at  Bannock  burn  is  most  likely  a  pleasing  fiction. 
According  to  Froissart,  who  obtained  the  particulars  from  three  eye-witnesses, 
the  Scottish  foot-soldiers  at  the  Battle  of  Otterburn,  1388,  carried  a  large  horn 
slung  round  the  neck  after  the  manner  of  hunters.  To  frighten,  the  enemy 
these  horns  were  sounded  in  chorus  and,  being  of  different  sizes,  the  noise  was 
so  great  that  it  could  be  heard  miles  off.  The  bagpipe  is  first  named  in  Scottish 
records  about  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  figure  of  a  piper  is 
sculptured  in  Melrose  Abbey  of  an  earlier  date  than  any  written  record  of  the 
instrument  in  Scotland-,  and  in  Rosslyn  Chapel  is  a  chiselled  figure  with  bare 
legs  and  feet  and  wearing  a  kilt,  playing  the  pipes. 

No.  256.  O,  wha  will  to  St.  Stephen's  house.  Gilbert  Burns  Edition, 
London,  1820,  from  a  manuscript  entitled  '  The  fete  champetre.  Tune  Killi- 
crankie?  The  summer  of  1788  is  fixed  as  the  date  of  the  entertainment  re- 
corded in  this  programme  ballad.  According  to  Gilbert  Burns,  its  origin  was 
due  to  a  garden-party  given  by  William  Cunninghame  of  Annbank,  Ayrshire, 
on  coming  of  age  and  entering  into  the  possession  of  his  grandfather's  estates. 
The  entertainment  was  then  believed  to  have  a  political  meaning.  Burns 
knew  the  host,  who  some  years  later  married  a  daughter  of  his  dear  friend  and 
correspondent,  Mrs.  Stewart  of  Afton.  Boswell  and  Dr.  Johnson  are  referred 
to  in  the  close  of  the  firsf  stanza. 

For  Notes  on  the  tune,  see  song  No.  328.  - 

No.  257.  How  can  my  poor  heart  be  glad?  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  Jj6,  entitled  '  On  the  seas  and  far  away.  Tune,  O'er  the  hills,  &c.' 
Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  161.  The  MS.  is  in  Brechin  Castle.  Sent  to 
Thomson  August  30,  1794.  Later  Burns  withdrew  the  song  saying  that 
making  a  song  '  is  like  begetting  a  son  :  you  cannot  know  whether  you  have 
a  wise  man  or  a  fool,  until  you  produce  him  to  the  world  and  try  him.' 
Thomson  omitted  the  second  stanza,  and  for  a  chorus  repeated  the  first  without 
variation.  Burns  was  not  much  attached  to  this  melody  of  doubtful  origin, 
which  belongs  to  a  song  referring  to  the  wars  in  Queen  Anne's  reign,  entitled, 
Jockey  s  Lamentation,  printed  with  the  tune  in  Durfey's  Pills,  edition  1 709  and 
1 7 1 9,  v.  316.  Ramsay  published  an  altered  version  in  the  Tea-  Table  Miscellany, 
1725,  beginning  'Jockey  met  with  Jenny  fair.'  In  the  Pepysian  library  is 
a  black  letter  ballad  in  Scottish  orthography  printed  about  1660  entitled  The 
wind  hath  blawn  my  plaid  away :  or,  a  discourse  betwixt  a  young  man  and  the 
Elphin  Knight  to  be  sung  to  its  own  new  pleasant  tune.  The  last  line  of  every 

Gg2 


452  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

stanza  repeats  the  title  J^he  wind  hath  blawn  my  plaid  away  which  was  probably 
an  early  name  for  O'er  the  fields  and  far  away,  very  popular  in  England  and  did 
service  in  several  operas  of  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  tune  is  in  Atkinsoris  MS.  1694;  Sinkler^s  MS.,  1710,  entitled  My 
plaid  away,  Watts' s  Musical  Miscellany,  1730,  iii.  192',  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  c.  1755,  vii.  aj ;  MPGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  97;  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  29  \  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  62;  and  other 
musical  collections. 

No.  258.  There  was  on  a  time.  Cnrrie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  354,  entitled 
Caledonia.  '  Tune :  Caledonian  Hitnfs  delight?  The  MS.  is  in  the  Watson 
collection.  The  following  letter,  dated  Jan.  23,  1789,  was  addressed  to 
James  Johnson  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  .enclosing  a  copy  of  the  song 
'I  shall  be  in  Edinburgh,  my  dear  sir,  in  about  a  month,  when  we  shall 
overhaul  the  whole  collection  and  report  progress.  The  foregoing  I  hope  will 
suit  the  excellent  air  it  is  designed  for.'  The  song  was  not  printed  in  the 
Museum,  because,  I  conjecture,  Burns  afterwards  furnished  a  much  better 
song — The  banks  o  Doon  for  the  tune.  See  No.  123. 

No.  259.  Dees  haughty  Gaul  invasion  threat?  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  j8j,  entitled  The  Dumfries  Volunteers.  Tune,  Push  alout  the  jorum. 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  1*03,  No.  546.  Burns  was  suspected  of  holding 
treasonable  opinions,  and  he  suffered  for  railing  at  the  constitution.  But  he 
was  decidedly  of  the  opinion  that  British  wrongs  should  be  righted  by  British 
hands.  The  French  Convention  menaced  the  country  in  the  early  part  of  1795, 
and  two  companies  of  volunteers  were  raised  in  Dumfries  as  a  defence  against 
invasion.  Burns  became  a  member,  and  shouldered  the  musket  and  pike.  The 
irony  of  fate  hemmed  him  in  over  this  business.  As  a  suspected  rebel  he  was 
officially  censured  and  reduced.  But  it  is  curious  to  note  that  his  death  was 
accelerated  through  patriotism.  The  most  pathetic  letter  in  his  correspondence 
is  that  of  June  12,  i79°*>  nine  days  before  his  death,  to  his  uncle  James  Burness, 
Writer,  Montrose,  begging  a  loan  of  ten  pounds  by  return  of  post  to  save  him 
from  an  attachment  by  the  unpaid  tailor  who  supplied  his  volunteer  uniform. 
The  ballad  The  Dumfries  Volunteers,  with  music  composed  by  Stephen 
Clarke,  was  printed  on  a  sheet  in  March,  1795,  for  circulation  among  the 
volunteers.  Thomson,  in  Select  Melodies,  set  it  to  Get  up  and  bar  the  door. 
But  as  stated  by  Currie  it  was  written  for  Push  about  the  jorum,  a  popular 
English  melody,  composed  about  1770  for  a  song  in  the  opera  of  The  Golden 
Pippin.  It  is  a  good  marching  air  with  a  free  swing.  This  is  the  first  time 
the  Dumfries  Volunteers  has  been  printed  with  its  proper  tune,  entitled  The 
jorum  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,^;  and  Push  about  the  jorum  in  Aird's  Airs, 
1782,  i.  No.  in.  The  tune  was  a  particular  favourite" of  Burns.  In  the  Merry 
Muses  three  different  songs  are  marked  for  it.  This  patriotic  song  with  its 
tune  has  the  true  Eurasian  ring ;  and  although  the  events  which  produced  it  are 
now  only  historical  the  vehemence  of  the  poet  can  still  be  felt. 

No.  26O.  As  I  stood  by  yon  roofless  tower.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  40$,  signed  '  B.'  Tune,  Cumnock  Psalms,  named  on  the  MS.,  is 
in  the  British  Museum.  The  verses  are  known  as  The  minstrel  of  Lincluden. 
Burns  was  wont  to  walk  and  muse  among  the  ruins  of  the  Abbey,  situated  on 
the  angle  of  land  at  the  junction  of  the  Cluden  with  the  Nith,  about  a  mile  and 
a  half  north  of  Dumfries.  Pennant  gives  a  description  of  this  collegiate  Church 
in  his  Tour  in  Scotland,  1772,  which  is  accompanied  with  a  fine  engraving  of 
the  ruin.  Parts  of  the  chancel  and  nave  were  all  that  remained  in  Burns's  time. 
Margaret,  daughter  of  Robert  III,  the  wife  of  Archibald  Earl  of  Douglas,  son 
of  Bell-the-cat,  is  buried  in  the  chancel. 

The  stanza  and  curious  tune  which  Burns  appropriated  for  the  Minstrel  of 
Lincluden,  was  known  as  The  grey  goose  and  the  gled  from  an  old  erotic  song 
of  that  name.  Stephen  Clarke  transcribed  the  music  for  Burns,  and  in  a  letter 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  453 

to  Thomson  about  September,  1794.  the  poet  writes:  'Mr.  Clarke  says  that 
the  tune  is  positively  an  old  chant  of  the  Romish  Church,  which  corroborates 
the  old  tradition  that  at  the  Reformation,  the  Reformers  burlesqued  much  of 
the  old  church  music.  As  a  further  proof,  the  common  name  for  this  song  is 
Cumnock  Psalms.'  As  shown  in  Note  212,  Bishop  Percy  first  accentuated  this 
myth.  A  song  for  the  tune  is  in  the  Merry  Muses  and  it  is  very  unlikely  that 
Thomson  knew  it.  The  origin  of  the  tune  Cumnock  Psalms  is  obscure.  It  is 
framed  upon  no  existing  type  of  Scottish  music,  and  it  stands  alone.  It  is 
chiefly  recitative,  with  only  the  rudiments  of  a  modern  melody  and  a  compass 
not  extending  beyond  a  musical  fifth. 

No.  261.  The  laddies  by  the  banks  o'  Nith.  In  The  Spirit  of  British 
Song,  1826,  ii.  jj,  and  Cunningham's  Burns,  1834,  entitled  '  Election  Ballad 
for  Westerha'.'  In  this  second  election  ballad  of  1789,  the  poet  openly  sympa- 
thizes with  the  Tory  candidate.  The  Duke  of  Queensberry  is  held  up  to 
derision.  Burns  had  a  very  poor  opinion  of  the  character  of  the  Whig  candi- 
date, the  son  of  his  landlord.  He  is  not  named  in  the  ballad  but  he  is  described 
in  a  letter  to  Graham  of  Fin  try  as  *  a  youth  by  no  means  above  mediocrity  in 
his  abilities,  and  is  said  to  have  a  huckster  lust  for  shillings,  pennies  and 
farthings.'  For  a  Note  on  the  tune  Up  and  -waur  them  a1  Willie ;  or,  Up 
and  -warn  a,  see  No.  283. 

No.  262.  As  I  cam  down  the  banks  o'  Nith.  Centenary  Edition,  1896, 
ii.  jp8.  The  MS.  is  in  the  possession  of  Lord  Rosebery.  This  is  another 
version  of  the  preceding  ballad  for  the  tune  of  The  black  watch,  for  which 
see  Song  No.  269. 

The  two  series  of  Election  ballads  which  Burns  wrote  to  assist  his  friends 
are  not  printed  here  in  chronological  order  for  reasons  which  it  is  unnecessary 
to  explain.  This  and  the  preceding  are  the  second  and  third  of  the  election  of 
1789  ;  and  No.  267  '  There  was  five  Carlins  in  the  -South  '  is  the  first.  After 
the  close  of  the  election  in  1790  the  exasperated  Burns  addressed  to  Graham  of 
Fintry  a  vigorous  invective  chiefly  directed  against  the  Duke  of  Queensberry 
who  supported  the  Whigs.  It  begins  '  Fintry  my  stay  in  worldly  strife,'  and 
is  in  the  metre  of  Suckling's  celebrated  ballad  '  I  tell  thee,  Dick,  where  I  have 
been,'  and  can  be  sung  to  that  melody,  but  as  Burns  did  not  name  any  tune  for 
his  ballad,  and  evidently  had  no  mind  that  it  should  be  sung,  it  is  not  in  this 
collection.  The  various  versions  can  be  seen  either  in  the  Edinburgh,  1877 
edition  or  the  Centenary  edition  of  his  Works.  The  ballads  of  the  1795-6 
contest  are  in  order  of  time  as  follows — our  Nos.  27^,  270,  .27^  and  273.  The 
result  of  this  election  was  not  known  at  the  time  Burns  died. 

No.  263.  Farewell  to  the  Highlands.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  2/9,  signed  '  Z.'  Tune  Faille  na  miosg.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  '  The  first  half  stanza  of  this  song  is  old  ;  the  rest  is  mine':  {Inter- 
leaved Museum].  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words.'  (Law's  MS.  L  ist.}  C.  Kirkpatrick 
Sharpe  refers  to  the  original  as  a  broadside  of  seven  stanzas  and  a  chorus 
entitled  The  strong  walls  of  Derry.  The  ballad  is  a  mixture  of  Scottish  and 
Irish  affairs  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  the  fifth  stanza  is  the  chorus  of  My 
heart 's  in  the  Highlands.  The  ballad  was  a  favourite  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who 
sometimes  sung  it  to  his  friends  at  convivial  meetings.  Nature  had  not  endowed 
the  great  novelist  with  the  gift  of  true  intonation — he  was  what  the  Scots  call 
'  timmer-tun'd ' — so  he  very  properly  confined  himself  to  vocal  performances 
with  his  intimates  only,  and  at  the  stage  of  the  proceedings  suggested  in  the 
following  chorus  of  the  ballad. 

'There  is  many  a  word  spoken,  but  few  of  the  best, 
And  he  that  speaks  fairest,  lives  longest  at  rest ; 
I  speak  by  experience — my  mind  serves  me  so, 
But  my  heart's  in  the  highlands  wherever  I  go. 


454  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Chorus.     Let  us  drink  and  go  hame,  drink  and  go  hame, 
If  we  stay  any  longer  we'll  get  a  bad  name. 
We'll  get  a  bad  name,  and  we'll  fill  ourselves  fou, 
And  the  strong  walls  of  Derry  it's  ill  to  go  through.' 

The  tune  Faille  na  miosg  or  The  musket  salute  is  Celtic.  The  second  part 
is  inferior  to  the  opening  four  lines,  and  is  probably  an  excrescence.  The  tune 
is  in  Oswald's  Curious  Collection  Scots  Tunes,  1740,^5?,  and  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  22.  English  and  foreign  composers  have  set 
to  original  music  these  melodious  verses  of  Burns. 

No.  264.  Fareweel  to  a'  our  Scottish  fame.  Scots  Mttsical  Museum, 
\  792,  No.  378,  entitled  Such  a  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation.  The  original 
MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  '  Mr.  B—  words,'  (Gray's  MS.  Lists}.  An 
invective  in  twenty-seven  stanzas  entitled  Upon  the  rogues  in  Parliament,  1704. 
is  in  Maidment's  Scotish  Pasquils,  1868,^79.  The  union  of  the  two  countries 
was  execrated  in  Scotland,  except  among  the  Whig  nobles.  The  Commissioners 
who  carried  through  the  treaty  were  styled  the  thirty-one  rogues,  and  were 
made  targets  for  the  most  bitter  satire,  and  held  up  individually  to  public 
ridicule.  The  rhyming  ware  of  that  period  is  not  very  well  known.  I  quote 
the  penultimate  stanza  of  The  Rogues  PasquiL 

'  In  such  an  array  of  rogues  Argyle  may  come  in, 
W7hose  blood  bears  the  stain  of  original  sin, 
And  if  he  's  like  to  go  on,  as  they  did  begin, 
Then  he'll  follow  the  fate  of  his  grandsire.' 

The  Curs'e,  written  and  circulated  immediately  after  the  Union  was  completed, 
is  still  more  violent,  and  swears  at  large.     It  is  as  follows : — 


'  Scotland  and  England  now  must  be 

United  in  one  nation ; 
So  we  again  must  perjured  be, 

And  taik  the  abjuration. 


The  Stuarts  antient  true  born  race,  Our  cursed  Devolution ! 


We  must  now  all  give  over ; 
We  must  receive  into  their  place, 
The  mungrells  of  Hanover. 

Curst  be  the  papists  who  first  drew 
Our  King  to  their  persuasion ; 

Curst  be  the  covenanting  crew, 
Who  gave  the  first  occasion 

To  strangers  to  ascend  the  throne, 
By  a  Stuart's  abdication! 


Curst  be  the  wretch  who  seized  his 

throne 

And  marred  our  Constitution ; 
Curst  be  all  those  who  helped  on 


Curst  be  those  treacherous  traitors  who, 
By  their  perfidious  knaverie, 

Have  brought  the  nation  now  unto 
Ane  everlasting  slaverie ! 

Curst  be  the  Parliament  that  day 
They  gave  the  Confirmation  ; 

And  curst  for  ever  be  all  they 
Shall  swear  the  abjuration.' 


Lockhart  of  Carnwath  states  the  amounts  paid  by  England  to  each  of  the 
Scottish  Union  Commissioners— the  thirty-one  rogues.  The  blood  money 
ranged  from  ^"1104  15.$-.  ^d.  paid  to  the  Earl  of  Marchmont  down  to  Lord  Banff, 
the  most  easily  squared  traitor,  who  agreed  to  dispose  of  himself  for  /Cn  2s. 
sterling  besides  throwing  in  his  religion,  in  order  that  he  might  qualify  himself 
to  act.  The  key  note  of  the  stanzas  of  Burns  is  that  what  could  not  be  effected 
by  reason  or  force,  was  at  last  obtained  by  gold  and  guile. 

The  model  of  Burns' s  verse  has  been  lost,  and  no  existing  song  fits  the  rhythm 
of  the  tune.  A  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1752, 
iv.  26,  and  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1755,  79. 

On  the  Museum  manuscript  of  the  song  Burns  wrote,  <  I  enclose  what 
I  think  the  best  set  of  the  tune,'  but  this  like  nearly  all  Burns's  musical  MS. 
has  disappeared. 

No.   265.    The   Thames   flows   proudly   to   the   sea.      Scots  Musical 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  455 

Musettm,  1790,  No.  2p/,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  The  Banks  of  Nith.  'Tune, 
Robie  donna  gorach '  (Daft  Robin).  Burns  intended  this  air  for  his  verses,  but 
although  it  is  so  marked  in  the  Museum,  the  music  of  the  Banks  of  Nith,  the 
composition  of  Robert  Riddell  was  engraved  instead.  In  the  Law  MS.  the 
direction  is  '  The  Banks  of  Nith — Tune,  Robie  donna  gorach.  Mr.  Burns's 
words.'  The  verses  are  now  for  the  first  time  set  in  the  text  with  the  proper 
tune.  It  may  be  stated  here  that  The  Captive  Ribband  beginning  '  Dear  Myra 
the  Captive  ribband 's  mine,'  which  for  sixty  years  has  been  printed  as  a  song 
of  Burns,  is  the  work  of  Dr.  Blacklock.  As  may  be  seen  in  the  Law  MS.  the 
holograph  note  of  Burns  is  '  Dr.  B —  gave  the  words,'  which  definitely  settles 
the  question.  This  song,  No.  257  in  the  Museum,  is  set  to  Robie  donna  gorach, 
hence  the  substitution  of  another  tune  for  that  in  our  text. 

The  Celtic  air  is  in  McFarlanes  MS.  c.  1740;  in  Dow's  Scottish  Music, 
c.  1776,  2j;  and  McDonald's  Highland  Airs,  1784,  aj. 

M"o.  266.  When  wild  war's  deadly  blast  was  blawn.  In  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1793,  i.  22.  '  Written  for  this  Work  by  Robert  Burns.'  Air,  The 
mill,  mill  0\  In  September,  1792,  Thomson  asked  Burns  to  touch  up  and 
amend  the  verses  of  a  song  in  Ramsay's  Miscellany,  but  Burns  declined  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  such  insipid  stuff.  He  declared  he  would  alter  no  song 
unless  he  could  amend  it.  Thomson  had  been  pegging  at  the  poet  to  write  in 
English  and  got  the  following  reply  in  April,  1 793 :  '  These  verses  suit  the 
tune  exactly  as  it  is  in  the  Museum.  There  is  a  syllable  wanting  at  the 
beginning  of  the  first  line  of  the  second  stanza ;  but  I  suppose  it  will  make 
little  odds.  There  is  so  little  of  the  Scots  language  in  the  composition  that 
the  mere  English  singer  will  find  no  difficulty  in  the  song.'  Thomson  main- 
tained that  the  third  and  fourth  lines  must  be  altered  in  order  to  suit  the  music. 
Burns  declined  to  make  any  change.  '  I  cannot  alter  the  disputed  lines  in 
The  mill,  mill  O.  What  you  think  a  defect  I  esteem  as  a  positive  beauty.' 
Thomson  substituted  two  lines  of  his  own  for  the  third  and  fourth  of  Burns. 
Currie,  in  Works,  1800,  iv.  jo,  restored  Burns's  words.  The  original,  or  at 
least  a  song  evidently  prior  to  Ramsay's,  is  in  the  Merry  Muses,  beginning : — 

'  Chorus.     The  Mill,  Mill  O,  and  the  kill,  kill,  O, 

And  the  coggin  o'  Peggie's  wheel  O, 
The  sack  and  the  sieve,  and  a'  she  did  leave, 

And  danc'd  the  Millers  reel,  O. 
As  I  cam  down  yon  waterside, 

And  by  yon  shellin-hill,  O, 
There  I  spied  a  bonie,  bonie  lass, 

And  a  lass  that  I  lov'd  right  weel,  O.' 

Cromek  interpolated  in  Reliques  these  verses  with  a  note,  neither  of  which 
is  in  the  Interleaved  Museum.  A  version  is  in  Herd's  MS.,  and  there  is 
a  second  song  of  the  kind  in  the  Merry  Muses,  which  obviously  Cromek  had 
consulted. 

The  tune  was  very  popular  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is  in  Orpheus 
Caledonius,  1725,  No.  20;  Ramsay's  Musick,  c.  1726;  Watts's  Musical 
Miscellany,  1731,  vi.  76;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,  14 ;  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1751,  iii.  2;  Bremner's  Scots  Songs,  1757,  30;  Scots 
Mttsical  Museum,  1 790,  No.  242,  and  many  other  collections.  It  is  said  to  be 
in  a  MS.  of  1709. 

No.  267.  There  was  five  carlins  in  the  South.  Stewart's  Burns,  1802. 
Lockhart,  Life,  1829,  entitled,  The  five  carlins.  Tune,  Chevy  chase.  A  MS. 
is  in  the  British  Museum.  Written  on  the  contested  election  of  a  member  of 
Parliament  for  the  five  boroughs  in  the  shires  of  Dumfries  and  Kirkcudbright. 
Dumfries  is  'Maggie  by  the  banks  o'  Nith';  Lochmaben,  'Marjory  o'  the 
monie  lochs';  Annan,  '  Blinkin  Bess';  Kirkcudbright,  'Whisky  Jean';  and 


456 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Sanquhar,  '  Black  Joan.'  The  candidates  were  the  sitting  Tory  member,  Sir 
James  Johnston,  of  Wester-hall— the  'belted  knight,'  and  Captain  Patrick 
Miller — the  '  Soger  Youth ' — son  of  Patrick  Miller  of  Dalswinton,  Burns's  land- 
lord. As  will  be  seen  elsewhere  Burns  actively  supported  the  Tory  side, 
chiefly  because  '  Old  Q,'  the  notorious  Duke  of  Queensberry,  assisted  the  Whigs. 
On  December  9,  1789,  a  copy  of  the  ballad  was  sent  with  a  letter  to  Graham 
of  Fin  try.  '  The  election  Ballad,  as  you  will  see,  alludes  to  the  present  canvass 
in  our  string  of  burghs.  I  do  not  believe  there  will  be  a  harder  run  match  in 
the  whole  general  election.  The  great  man  here,  like  all  renegadoes,  is  a  flam- 
ing zealot  kicked  out  before  the  astonished  indignation  of  his  deserted  master, 
and  despised,  I  suppose,  by  the  party  who  took  him  in,  to  be  a  mustering 
faggot  at  the  mysterious  orgies  of  their  midnight  iniquities,  and  a  useful  drudge 
in  the  dirty  work  of  the  country  elections.  .  .  .  Dumfries  and  Sanquhar  are 
decidedly  the  Duke's  to  '  sell  or  let ';  so  Lochmaben,  a  city  containing  upwards 
of  fourscore  living  souls,  that  cannot  discern  between  their  right  hand  and  their 
left — for  drunkenness— has  at  present  the  balance  of  power  in  her  hands.  The 
honourable  council  of  that  ancient  burgh,  are  fifteen  in  number ;  but  alas ! 
their  fifteen  names  endorsing  a  bill  of  fifteen  pounds,  would  not  discount  the 
said  bill  in  any  banking  office.' 

The  tune  in  the  text — the  Scottish  Chevy  Chase — is  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy,  1830. 
It  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1 753 ,  v.  31  ;  in  McGibbon's^V^j  Tunes, 
1768,  iv,  108 ;  and  in  Dale's  Scotch  Songs,  1794,  i.  $4.  How  long  it  was  known 
before  the  earliest  date  named  is  quite  uncertain,  and  it  is  useless  to  speculate. 
At  least  three  different  English  tunes  of  the  name  are  known.  The  earliest 
is  entitled  Flying  Fame,  because  it  is  directed  to  be  sung  to  the  oldest  copy  of 
the  Chevy  Chase  ballads.  The  next,  with  the  distinctive  title  of  The  Children 
in  the  ivood,  belongs  to  the  well~known  ballad  of  that  name.  It  is  the  tradi- 
tional melody  of  the  gravedigger  in  Hamlet,  the  music  of  which  can  be  seen  in 
song  No.  2^4  below.  The  third  is  In  pcscod  time\  or,  The  hunfs  up.  The 
unravelling  of  the  history  of  these  three  melodies  can  be  seen  in  Chappell's 
Popular  music,  and  because  the  last  is  connected  with  Scotland  as  the  melody 
of  one  of  the  Cude  and  Godlie  Ballads,  I  subjoin  the  music  of  The  hunfs  up, 
with  a  stanza  of  the  curious  parody :  — 


The  hunt-er  is  Christ  that  huntis  in  haste,  The  hounds  are  Pe  -ter  and    Paul  i 


The  paip    is  the    foxe,  Rome  is   the    rox,  That  rub-bis  us   on    the 


KTo.  268.  You're  welcome  to  despots,  Dumourier.  Cromek's  Reliques 
1808,  421.  Entitled  'Address  to  General  Dumourier: — a  parody  on  Robin 
Adair?  General  Dumourier,  like  General  Monk  and  the  Marquis  of  Montrose, 
began  his  military  career  as  a  rebel,  but  changed  sides  in  the  course  of  the 
game.  Dumourier  was  one  of  the  best  generals  of  the  French  Revolution,  but, 
events  proving  distasteful  to  him,  he  abjured  Republican  principles.  As  soon  as 
he  heard  that  the  Directory  proposed  to  arrest  him,  he  took  refuge  in  Austrian 
quarters  and  nearly  succeeded  in  bringing  his  army  with  him.  He  is  briefly 
and  picturesquely  described  by  Carlyle  '  A  most  shifty  wiry  man  ;  one  of 
Heaven's  Swiss:  that  wanted  only  work.  Fifty  years  of  unnoticed  toil  and 
valour  ;  one  year  of  toil  and  valour  not  unnoticed,  but  seen  of  all  countries  and 
centuries,  the  thirty  other  years  again  unnoticed,  of  memoir  writing,  English 
Pension,  scheming  and  projecting  to  no  purpose.' 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  457 

The  model  of  Burns's  'Impromptu  '  is  a  bacchanalian  closing  thus  : — 

'  Come  let  us  drink  about,  Robin  Adair, 
Come  let  us  drink  about,  Robin  Adair, 
Come  let  us  drink  about,  and  drink  a  hogshead  out, 
Then  we'll  be  drunk,  no  doubt,  Robin  Adair.' 

For  the  tune  Robin  Adair  or  Aileen  a  roon,  see  Song  No.  45. 

No.  269.  When  Guilford  good  our  pilot  stood.  Edinburgh  Edition, 
1787,  jn,  entitled,  'a  fragment. — Tune:  Gilliecrankie.'  In  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  ii.  No.  101,  it  is  set  to  the  tune  in  the  text  according  to  the 
instructions  of  Burns  contained  in  Gray's  MS.  Lists.  It  is  the  first  song  in 
the  Mtiseum  over  which  he  had  control,  and  he  changed  the  melody  because 
Killieciankie  had  already  been  printed  in  the  collection.  The  ballad  refers 
to  events  between  1775  and  the  close  of  1783  in  Canada  and  North  America. 
Pitt  became  Premier  in  December,  1783,  after  the  fall  of  the  Coalition  ministry 
of  North  and  Fox.  There  are  Hogarthian  touches  in  most  of  the  political 
ballads  of  Burns,  and  Pitt's  rival  is  well  drawn  in  the  two  lines  : — 
'An'  Charlie  Fox  threw  by  the  box 
An'  lows'd  his  tinkler  jaw,  man.' 

Fox  is  said  to  have  often  come  straight  from  the  gaming  room  knee-deep  in 
cards  to  the  House  of  Commons. 

The  Gaelic  tune,  M.freicedan  or  The  black  -watch  is  entitled  The  highland 
watch  in  Dow's  Ancient  Scots  Music,  c.  i77^»  42i  anc^  The  Earl  of  Glencairn's 
in  McGlashan's  Strathspey  Reels,  1780,  6.  The  42nd  Regiment  or  The  black 
watch  was  embodied  to  keep  down  rebellion  in  the  Highlands. 

No.  270.  Fy,  let  us  a'  to  Kirkcudbright.  Broadside  1795;  Cunning- 
ham's Burns,  1834.  Tune  Fy,  let  us  a'  to  the  bridal.  The  first  seven  stanzas 
satirize  and  ridicule  the  opposite  political  party ;  and  the  rest,  except  the 
closing  lines,  eulogize  the  Whig  candidate.  The  butchering  invective  is  not 
nearly  so  amusing  as  The  holy  fair  or  Orthodox  wha  believe  in  John  Knox. 
Lockhart  declined  to  print  some  of  these  political  ballads  in  his  Life  of  Burns, 
1828,  on  the  ground  that  'perhaps  some  of  the  persons  lashed  and  ridiculed 
are  still  alive— their  children  certainly  are  so'.  These  reasons  cannot  now  be 
advanced,  and  Time  has  solved  the  propriety  of  printing  them.  The  ballad 
which  gave  its  name  to  the  tune  is  in  Watson's  Choice  Collection  of  Comic  and 
Serious  Poems,  Edin.  1706,  the  first  miscellaneous  collection  of  poetry  published 
in  Scotland.  The  first  stanza  is : — 

'  Fy,  let  us  a  to  the  b riddel, 

For  there  will  be  lilting  there, 
For  Jockie  's  to  be  married  to  Maggie 

The  lass  with  the  gauden-hair; 
And  there  will  be  lang-kail  and  pottage 

And  bannocks  of  Barley-meal, 
And  there  will  be  good  salt  herring 

To  relish  a  cog  of  good  ale.' 

This  song  and  the  tune  The  blythsome  Wedding  or  Fy,  let  us  a  to  the 
bridal,  are  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  36,  the  music  is  in  Craig's 
Scots  Tunes,  1 730,  41,  entitled  An  the  Kirk  wad  let  me  be  ;  the  Scots  Mttsical 
Museum,  1787,  No.  j8 ;  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,1.  208;  Dale's  Scotch 
Songs,  1794,  iii.  141',  also  in  McGibbon's  Sects  Tunes,  1755,  32,  and  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  i.  No..i2j.  The  modern  copies  of  the  music  differ  considerably 
from  the  older,  as  indeed  they  do  between  themselves.  Durfey  printed  a  para* 
phrase  of  The  blythsome  Wedding  in  Pills,  \  720,  vi.  jjo.  The  editor's  ignorance 
of  the  Scottish  vernacular  produced  a  cacophonous  parody  of  meaningless 
words.  The  tune  in  the  Pills,  although  from  the  same  source  as  that  in  the 


458 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  differs  particularly  in  the  chorus.  The  oldest  verses 
to  The  blythsome  bridal,  or  Kirk  wad  let  me  be  are  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1 769, 
114,  and  several  songs  in  Ramsay's  Miscellany  are  marked  for  the  tune.  The 
title  Silly  old  man  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances  coincides  with  a 
song  referred  to  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  253,  as  part  of  an  interlude  performed  in 
Nithsdale. 

No.  271.  O  Logan,  sweetly  didst  thou  glide.  Currie,  Works,  1800, 
iv.  7^.  '  Tune)  Logan  Water?  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1801,  116.  Two 
stanzas,  of  which  the  following  is  the  first,  is  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776, 
ii.  2}o,  and  in  the  Merry  Muses.  It  is  not  a  plaintive  song : — 

'  The  Logan  burn,  the  Logan  braes, 
I  help'd  a  bonie  lass  on  wi'  her  claes, 
First  wi'  her  stockings,  and  syne  wi'  her  shoon, 
But  she  gied  me  the  glaiks  when  a'  was  dune.' 

A  different  song  in  Ramsay's  Miscellany  is  marked  for  the  tune.  Several 
ballads  to  the  tune  Logan  Water  were  popular  in  England  in  the  seven- 
teenth and  eighteenth  centuries.  About  1675,  a  white  letter  ballad  was 
printed  for  C.  Bates  and  Jonah  Deacon,  entitled  The  Frolicsome  wager,  the 
first  line  of  which  is  '  Behold  what  noise  is  this  I  hear,  to  the  tune  Logan 
Water?  Also  printed  about  the  same  time  is  a  black  letter  broadside,  con- 
taining two  ballads,  The  Devonshire  Damsels  frollick  and  The  Devonshire 
Boys  Courage.  The  latter  is  '  To  an  excellent  new  tune  call'd  the  Devonshire 
Boys  Delight  or  the  Liggan  Waters,  &c.'  The  popularity  of  the  tune  is 
confirmed  in  another  broadside  of  the  seventeenth  century  entitled  '  The  bonny 
Scottish  lad  and  the  yielding  Lass  to  an  excellent  new  Tune  much  in  request 
called  Liggan  Waters'  One  of  the  stanzas  in  dialogue  form  is  here  given  as 
a  specimen  : — 

*  Bonny  lass,  I  love  thee  well,' 

'Bonny  lad,  I  love  thee  better.' 

*  Wilt  thou  pull  off  thy  hose  and  shoon 

And  wend  with  me  to  Liggan  Water?' 

This  evidently  is  connected  with  the  verse  previously  quoted.  The  author  of 
The  Seasons  wrote  a  song  for  the  tune  which  is  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
1733  5  lastly,  about  the  year  1781,  John  Mayne,  the  author  of  The  Siller  Gun, 
wrote  By  Logaris  Streams  that  rin  sae  deep,  &c.,  often  sung  publicly  in 
London  about  the  end  of  eighteenth  century.  Burns  incorrectly  thought  that  this 
latter  was  old,  and  incorporated  two  lines  of  it  in  his  own  song  which  he 
forwarded  in  a  letter  dated  June  25,  1793,  to  Thomson,  who  thanked  him  for 
it,  but,  being  a  government  official  and  not  likely  to  interfere  in  politics,  handed 
it  to  Currie. 

The  tune  Logan  Water  is  in  Ramsay's  Mustek,  c.  1726  ;  Orpheus  Caledonius, 
1733,  No.  23;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  JT/;  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, 1753,  v.  18;  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  42 ;  Ritson's  Scotish 
Songs,  1794?  i-  31 ;  and  in  many  other  collections.  A  very  emasculated  set  of  the 
tune  entitled  The  Logan  water  is  so  deep  in  the  opera  Flora,  1729,  contains 
only  four  lines  of  music. 

No.  272.  Farewell,  thou  fair  day.  Scots  Musical  Museiim,  1792, 
No.  j8j,  entitled  Or  an  an  Aoig  or  The  Song  of  Death ;  Thomson's  Scotish 
Airs,  1799,  76,  with  a  wrong  tune.  '  The  circumstance  that  gave  rise  to  the 
verses  was— looking  over  with  a  musical  friend  McDon aid's  Collection  of 
Highland  Airs  (1784),  I  was  struck  with  one,  an  Isle  of  Skye  tune,  entitled 
Oran  an  Aoig,  or  The  Song  of  Death,  to  the  measure  of  which  I  have  adapted 
my  verses.'— Letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop,  undated  (May,  1 791 ).  The  short  prefatory 
note  usually  printed  with  the  song  is  an  interpolation  for  which  there  is  no 
authority. 


VII.     PATRIOTIC    AND    POLITICAL  459 

Dr.  Currie  states  that  Burns  intended  to  print  the  song  with  music  in  sheet  form, 
but  owing  to  the  inflammable  state  of  the  country  was  dissuaded  from  doing  so. 

This  beautiful  melody  is  in  McDonald's  Airs,  1784,  No.  162 ;  Ritson's 
Scot  is  h  Songs,  1794,  ii.  259. 

No.  273.  Wha  will  buy  my  troggin  ?  Cunningham's  Edition, 
1834,  entitled  '  The  trogger,  'tune,  Buy  broom  besoms."  The  Parliament 
elected  in  1795  was  dissolved  in  May,  1796,  and  Heron  of  Heron  was  again 
cast  on  another  turbulent  political  sea.  This  time  he  was  opposed  by  the 
Hon.  Montgomery  Stewart,  a  younger  son  of  the  Earl  of  Galloway.  Burns, 
although  confined  to  the  house  by  severe  illness,  assisted  his  friend  with  The 
trogger.  Before  the  election  took  place  Burns  was  dead.  Heron  won,  but  was 
unseated  on  a  petition  and  died  shortly  afterwards. 

To  appreciate  the  satire  it  is  necessary  to  remember  that  a  '  trogger '  or 
'  troker,'  is  the  Autolycus  of  Scotland.  The  word  is  an  example  of  French 
influence  on  the  Scottish  language.  Troquer  means  to  exchange,  to  barter, 
to  do  business  on  a  small  scale.  The  two  following  examples  from  Jamieson's 
Scottish  Dictionary  illustrate  the  term  : — 

'  How  could  you  troke  the  mavis  note 

For  penny  pies  all  piping  hot.' — Ferguson. 

'Nae  harm,  tho  I  hae  brought  her  ane  or  twa 

Sic  bonny  tracks  to  help  to  mak  her  braw.' — Shirrefs. 

The  tune  Buy  broom  besoms  is  ascribed  without  authority  to  William  Purvis 
or  Blind  Willie,  an  eccentric  blind  fiddler,  born  in  Newcastle,  1752.  Buy 
broom  besoms  was  Willy's  chef  a"ceuvre  in  the  streets  and  public  houses  that  he 
frequented.  He  died  in  the  Newcastle  poor  house  in  1832  upwards  of  80  years 
of  age.  The  music  of  the  text  is  from  Northumberland  Minstrelsy,  1882,  118. 
The  fact  of  Burns  having  written  his  ballad  for  the  tune  is  evidence  that  it  was 
popular  in  the  south  of  Scotland  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is 
not  in  any  Scottish  collection. 

The  characters  in  this,  the  last  election  ballad  written  by  Burns,  are  as 
follows  : — Stanza  2  :  The  Earl  of  Galloway,  a  sour  Puritan  whom  Burns  did  not 
love.  His  son  was  the  Tory  candidate.  St.  3  : — Murray  of  Broughton,  who 
eloped  with  a  lady  and  left  his  wife  ;  Thomas  Gordon  of  Balmaghie,  his 
nephew.  St.  4 :  A  Galloway  laird,  David  Maxwell  of  Cardoness,  whom 
Burns  described  as  '  a  stupid,  money-loving  dunderpate.'  St.  6  and  1 1  :  John 
Bushby  of  Tinwald,  a  lawyer  and  a  banker.  St.  7  :  Rev.  James  Muirhead  of 
Urr,  who  satirized  Burns  in  an  epigram.  He  invented  a  crest  and  armorial 
bearings.  St.  8  :  Walter  Sloan  Lawrie,  of  Redcastle.  St.  9  :  Douglas  of 
Carlinwark,  which  latterly  was  changed  to  Castle  Douglas.  St.  10  :  Copeland 
of  Collieston.  St.  12  :  The  Devil. 

No.  274.  'Twas  in  the  seventeen  hunder  year.  Hogg  and  Mother- 
well's  Edition,  1834  (with  the  exception  of  three  stanzas),  entitledy^w  Busby  s 
lamentation.  Tune  :  Babes  in  the  wood.  W7ritten  to  celebrate  the  election  of 
the  Whig  candidate  Heron  of  Kerroughtrees.  Black-nebbit  John  Bushby  was 
a  solicitor  and  bank  agent,  a  man  of  capacity  whose  taste  lay  in  money-making. 
Burns  was  an  unsympathetic  acquaintance,  and,  when  in  an  opposite  camp,  he 
attacked  his  quondam  friend  without  reluctance.  (For  reference  to  tune  see 
No.  267.} 

No.  275.  Wham  will  we  send  to  London  town?  Broadside,  1795; 
Cunningham's  Edition,  1834.  This  is  another  ballad  belonging  to  the  local 
politics  of  the  early  part  of  1795.  WTith  characteristic  fervour  Burns  threw 
himself  into  the  midst  of  the  election  warfare.  The  Stewarty  of  Kirkcud- 
bright was  in  want  of  a  parliamentary  representative,  and  a  friend  of  the 
poet,  Heron  of  that  Ilk  and  Kerroughtrees,  became  the  Whig  candidate. 


460 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


He  was  opposed  by  a  Tory,  Thomas  Gordon  of  Balmaghie,  who  had  the 
support  of  most  of  the  landed  proprietors  of  the  district.  Burns  knew  most  of 
the  principal  supporters  on  the  other  side,  and  his  personal  aversion  to  some  of 
them  whetted  his  pen.  In  his  only  known  letter  to  Heron  early  in  1795  he  sent 
a  copy  of  this  and  No.  270  sufra,  which  had  been  previously  printed  in  broad- 
sides for  circulation  among  the  electors.  He  informs  Heron :  '  In  order  to 
bring  my  humble  efforts  to  bear  with  more  effect  on  the  foe,  I  have  privately 
printed  a  good  many  copies  of  both  ballads,  and  have  sent  them  among  friends 
all  over  the  country  .  .  .  You  have  already  as  your  auxiliary  the  sober  detesta- 
tion of  mankind  on  the  head  of  your  opponents ;  and  I  swear  by  the  lyre  of 
Thalia  to  muster  on  your  side  all  the  votaries  of  honest  laughter  and  fair, 
candid  ridicule ! '  Whether  it  is  fair  or  not,  there  can  be  no  question  of  the 
candidness  of  the  ridicule.  In  these  ballads  we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  manners 
and  high  jinks  at  parliamentary  elections  a  hundred  years  ago. 
For  the  tune  For  d  that,  see  Songs  Nos.  252  and  309. 

No.  276.  Dire  was  the  hate  at  old  Harlaw.  Cvomek's  Reliques, 
1808,  416,  entitled  '  The  Dean  of  Faculty.  A  new  ballad.  Tune,  The  dragon 
of  Wantley.'  The  last  stanza  is  wanting  in  Cromek.  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  Towards  the  close  of  1795  the  ferment  of  politics  was 
very  brisk  in  Scotland.  Henry  Erskine,  the  eloquent  Dean  of  Faculty  and  the 
most  brilliant  member  of  the  Scottish  bar,  presided  at  a  public  meeting  in 
Edinburgh  to  discuss  political  reform.  His  action  displeased  the  members  of 
the  Edinburgh  Bar,  and  at  the  next  election  of  a  Dean,  Robert  Dundas,  the 
mediocre  son  of  a  distinguished  father,  was  nominated  and  was  elected  by  a 
large  majority.  Burns  had  an  old  score  to  settle  with  the  new  Dean,  who  slighted 
him  in  1787.  At  the  instigation  of  the  physician  of  the  late  Lord  President 
Dundas,  who  had  then  just  died,  Burns  wrote  a  eulogy  and  sent  it  to  the  son  in 
a  letter.  Neither  the  poem  nor  the  letter  was  acknowledged,  and  in  writing  the 
pungent  satire  Dire  was  the  hate,  Burns  was  paying  tribute  to  his  old  friend 
and  adviser,  the  witty  Henry  Erskine,  and  scoring  off  Robert  Dundas.  The 
first  line  of  the  ballad  refers  to  the  battle  of  Harlaw,  which  took  place  in  1411 
at  Garioch  in  Aberdeenshire,  between  the  Highlanders  and  the  Lowlanders.  It 
is  celebrated  in  minstrelsy,  and  is  memorable  as  being  the  last  contest  for 
political  supremacy  in  Scotland  between  the  Celtic  and  the  Anglo-Saxon  races. 
Next  to  Bannockburn  it  was  the  most  decisive  battle  in  Scottish  history.  The 
ballad  of  Harlaw  is  named  in  the  Complaynt  of  Scotland  c.  1549,  and  an  old 
pibroch  bears  the  title,  the  tune  of  which  in  a  modern  form  set  to  verses 
printed  by  Allan  Ramsay  in  1724  is  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  No.  312. 

The  latter  part  of  the  first  couplet  of  Burns's  verses  refers  to  the  Battle  of 
Langside,  which  determined  the  career  in  Scotland  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots. 
After  this  short  introduction  the  poet  proceeds  to  impale  the  new  Dean  and  his 
heretic  supporters. 

The  tune  and  ballad  of  The  Dragon  of  Wantley  are  in  Durfey's  Pills ,  1719, 
iii,  10.  The  words  alone  in  A  Collection  of  old  ballads,  1723,  ^7,  entitled  An 
excellent  Ballad  of  a  most  dreadful  combat  fought  between  Moore  of  Moore-hall 
and  the  Dragon  of  Wantley.  The  verses  are  coarse,  but  the  wit  and  humour 
are  undeniable  and  superior  to  the  ordinary  class  of  narrative  ballads.  A  specimen 
is  the  following  stanza  :  — 

'  This  dragon  had  two  furious  wings, 

Each  one  upon  each  shoulder; 
With  a  sting  in  his  tail,  as  long  as  a  flail, 

Which  made  him  bolder  and  bolder. 
He  had  long  claws,  and  in  his  jaws 

Four  and  forty  teeth  of  iron ; 
With  a  hide  as  tough,  as  any  buff, 

Which  did  him  round  environ.' 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


461 


The  ballad  certainly  belongs  to  the  seventeenth  century.  A  black  letter  copy 
is  in  the  Pepys  collection,  which  is  reproduced  in  Child's  Ballads,  1861,  viii. 
128,  where  the  editor  says  that  he  thinks  it  a  parody  of  some  early  heroic 
tale.  This  is  the  first  time  Burns's  ballad  has  been  printed  with  its  tune,  which, 
it  is  needless  to  say,  is  English. 


VIII.     JACOBITE. 

No.  277.  "When  first  my  brave  Johnis  lad.     Scots  Musical  Museum, 

1792,  No. 309,  entitled  Cock  up  your  beaver.     The  MS.,  not  in  Burns's  hand, 
is  in  the  British  Museum.   •  A  fragment  of  the  old  song  is  in  Herd's  Scots 
Songs,  1769,^/4.     Burns  made  a  few  alterations  in  the.  first  stanza,  the  second 
being  entirely  his. 

The  tune  was  popular  in  England  as  a  Scotch  dance  in  the  seventeenth 
century.  It  is  printed  in  the  seventh  edition  of  Playford's  Dancing  Master, 
1686,  also  edition  1695,  entitled  Jo >hnny  cock  thy  beaver.  It  is  also  in  Atkin- 
son's MS.,  1694  ;  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  i.  332,  set  to  a  semi-political  song 
beginning  '  To  horse  brave  boys  of  Newmarket,  to  horse  ' ;  in  Sinklers  MS., 
Glasgow,  1710;  in  Oswald's  Companion,  c.  1755,  vii.  2;  and  in  McGibbon's 
Scots  Tunes,  1755,  20. 

No.  278.  Our  thrissles  flourisb'd  fresh  and  fair.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No.  263,  entitled  Awa,  whigs,  awa.  The  MS.  is  not  among 
the  Burns  papers  in  the  British  Museum.  In  Law's  MS.  List,  '  Mr.  Burns's 
old  words.'  In  the  fourth  stanza  Burns  is  indignant  against  the  enemies  of  the 
Jacobites,  for  with  all  his  democratic  feeling  he  could  not  escape  from  his 
Jacobite  proclivities.  The  Union  in  his  day  was  not  accepted  as  favourable  to 
his  country — the  pride  of  the  nation  rebelled  against  occupying  an  inferior 
position.  The  feeling  was  expressed  on  the  slightest  provocation  whether  over 
the  taxation  of  beer  barrels,  or  a  suggestion  to  abolish  Bank  notes.  Sir  Walter 
Scott  astonished  the  Parliament  of  St.  Stephen's  by  his  furious  attack  on  the 
proposal  to  amend  the  paper  currency  established  for  more  than  150  years 
when  the  country  was  independent.  In  spite  of  Burns's  feeble  apologies  for 
writing  up  the  Jacobite  cause,  he  embodied  his  sentiments  in  all  the  Jacobite 
songs,  although  this  one  like  some  of  the  others  was  not  acknowledged. 

The  original  of  Burns's  song  is  eight  lines  in  the  Herd  MS.  as  follows  : — 

'And  when  they  cam  by  Gorgie  Mills 

They  licked  a'  the  mouter, 
The  bannocks  lay  about  there 
Like  bandoliers  and  powder ; 
Awa,  whigs,  awa ! 
Awa,  whigs,  awa ! 
Ye' re  but  a  pack  o'  lazy  louns, 
Ye'll  do  nae  guid  ava  !  ' 

Awa,  whigs,  awa,  is  still  a  very  popular  melody  which  was  originally 
published  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  19  without  a  second  part  and 
without  the  sharp  minor  seventh  near  the  close  of  the  fourth  line.  The  tune  is 
also  in  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  411.  Another  and  different  air  is  in  Songs 
Prior  to  Burns,  page  7.2  which  R.  Chambers  said  was  sung  to  the  song  in  the 
house  of  a  Perthshire  Jacobite  family. 

No.  279.  Now  Nature  hangs  her  mantle  green.     Edinburgh  Edition, 

1793,  ii.  777;  entitled  'Lament  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots  on  the  approach  of 
Spring*  ;  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1797,  No.  404,  signed  '  B.'     The  first  copy 
was  enclosed  to  Dr.  John  Moore  in  a  letter  dated  February,  27,  1791,  while 


462  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Burns  was  reading  Percy's  Reliques  of  Ancient  English  Poetry.  Copies  were 
sent  to  several  other  friends.  Burns  was  particularly  pleased  with  the  ballad — 
a  class  of  poetry  he  was  not  much  attached  to, — and  he  told  Lady  Constable 
'  When  I  would  interest  my  fancy  in  the  distresses  incident  to  humanity,  I  shall 
remember  the  unfortunate  Mary.  I  enclose  a  poetic  compliment  I  lately  paid 
to  the  memory  of  our  greatly  injured,  lovely  Scottish  Queen.'  He  writes  in 
the  same  strain  to  Mrs.  Graham,  and  to  Clarinda  when  sending  them  copies. 

The  ballad  was  printed  in  the  Museum  with  the  melody  which  Burns 
communicated  to  the  editor. 

A  song  Queen  Marys  lamentation  'I  sigh  and  lament  me  in  vain,'  with 
a  melody  by  Giordani,  is  well  known :  but  neither  words  nor  music  have  any 
relation  to  the  ballad  of  Burns.  The  absorbing  interest  in  Queen  Mary  is  the 
excuse  for  noticing  here  the  fabricated  verses  so  long  attributed  to  her  on 
bidding  adieu  to  her  beloved  France.  The  song  was  written  by  Meusnier  de 
Querlon  and  first  printed  in  his  Anthologie  Fran^oise,  1765,  i.  79,  with  music. 
He  pretended  that  he  obtained  it  from  a  manuscript  of  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, which  has  never  been  discovered.  His  countryman,  Fournier  exposed 
this  and  other  of  Querlon 's  tricks,  and  Charles  dubs  the  song  '  rimes  barbares.' 
As  a  curiosity — the  following  are  the  original  verses  in  the  rare  Anthologie : — 

'Adieu,  plaisant  pays  de  France, 

O  ma  patrie, 

La  plus  cherie, 

Qui  as  nourri  ma  jeune  enfance ! 
Adieu,  France,  adieu  mes  beaux  jours. 
La  Nef  qui  dejoint  nos  amours 
N'a  cy  de  moi  que  la  moitie: 
Une  part  te  reste,  elle  est  tienne  ; 
Je  la  fie  a  ton  amitie, 
Pour  que  de  1'autre  il  te  souvienne.' 

No.  280.  O,  cam  ye  here  the  fight  to  shun  ?  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  282,  entitled  The  battle  of  Sherra-moor :  'Mr.  B.  gave  the  words.' 
Tune,  Cameronian  Kant.  Law's  MS.  List.  The  battle  of  Sheriffmuir  was 
fought  on  Sunday,  November  13,  1715,  between  the  Government  forces  com- 
manded by  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  and  the  rebels  under  the  Earl  of  Mar.  The 
battle  was  drawn,  both  sides  claiming  the  victory,  and  the  peculiar  humour  of 
the  country  which  delighted  to  treat  matters  of  serious  political  import  in 
a  ridiculous  manner,  chose  this  event  as  the  subject  of  ballads  to  satirize  both 
sides  in  an  impartial  manner.  The  two  armies  approached  each  other  on  the 
broad  muir  between  the  Ochils  and  the  Grampians.  It  is  an  undulating 
platform  of  gentle  hummocky  hills,  and  neither  army  saw  very  clearly  the 
position  and  movements  of  the  other.  When  the  forces  came  into  collision,  it 
was  discovered  that  the  right  wing  of  each  was  the  strongest.  The  rebels  out- 
numbered the  Government  army,  but  lost  the  advantage  by  rushing  the  attack 
before  the  arrangements  were  completed. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  described  how  the  Highlanders  behaved  in  a  campaign. 
While  on  the  field  they  would  desert  in  three  cases :  if  much  time  was  lost  in 
bringing  them  into  action,  they  would  get  tired  and  go  home ;  if  they  fought 
and  were  victorious,  they  would  plunder  and  go  home ;  if  they.fought  and  were 
beaten,  they  would  run  away  and  go  home.  These  tactics  were  obviously 
perplexing  and  inconvenient  to  the  leaders,  but  they  were  practised  in  the 
rebellions  of  1715  and  1745,  and  explain  how  the  rebel  armies  in  both  cases 
rapidly  melted  away.  The  ballad  recites,  as' the  only  thing  certain,  that  a  battle 
was  fought,  and  both  sides  ran  away,  but  who  won  or  wno  lost,  the  satirical 
rhymer  knows  not. 

The  Clan  Campbell  in  general  was  much  in  evidence  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries,  and  was  famed  for  making  an  intelligent  forecast  of  events 


VIII.     JACOBITE  463 


with  a  view  to  promoting  personal  advancement.  The  enormous  extent  of 
territory  in  the  possession  of  the  family,  stretching  right  across  Scotland  from 
sea  to  sea,  is  proof  of  inherited  worldly  wisdom.  In  1715  the  Duke  of  Argyle 
led  the  Government  army ;  his  kinsman,  Ereadalbane,  the  second  great^branch 
of  the  family,  hedged  and  made  himself  safe  whatever  might  happen.  He 
secretly  arranged  with  the  rebels  to  bring  twelve  hundred  active  men  on  the 
field,  but  only  three  hundred  arrived,  and  they  merely  surveyed  the  battle  from 
a  distance.  When  the  war  was  over  Breadaibane  claimed  a  reward  from  the 
Government  for  having  prevented  his  men  taking  part  in  the  rebellion.  It  was 
an  ingenious  device  to  claim  compensation  for  benevolent  neutrality.  Breadai- 
bane is  described  thus  by  a  contemporary — 'of  fair  complexion  and  has  the 
gravity  of  a  Spaniard,  is  as  cunning  as  a  fox,  wise  as  a  serpent,  and  slippery  as 
an  eel.'  The  celebrated  Rob  Roy — one  of  the  clan — was  a  chip  of  the  same 
block.  He  also  was  present  at  the  battle  of  Sheriffmuir  with  his  caterans.  He 
sympathized  with  the  Pretender,  but  was  restrained  from  assisting  the  rebels,  it 
is  said,  for  fear  of  giving  offence  to  his  protector  the  Duke  of  Argyle.  Rob  stood 
on  an  eminence  watching  the  progress  of  the  battle  as  described  in  a  stanza  of 
one  of  the  ballads.  He  was  pressed  to  assist,  but  he  coolly  replied,  '  if  they 
cannot  do  without  me,  they  cannot  do  with  me,'  and  remained  inactive.  When 
the  battle  was  over  he  and  his  followers  impartially  spoiled  the  wounded  and 
dead  on  both  sides,  and  went  home  laden  with  plunder. 

The  battle  of  Sheriffmuir  practically  closed  the  rebellion  of  1715;  when 
James  arrived  in  the  country  and  landed  at  Peterhead  a  few  months  later,  his 
adherents  were  perplexed  what  to  do  with  him,  as  they  had  no  further  plans 
for  continuing  the  war,  and  the  Pretender  did  not  inspire  the  Highlanders  with 
enthusiasm.  As  Burton  observes,  their  principles  of  Royal  Succession  or  Divine 
right  of  reigning  were  never  very  strong  unless  the  personal  character  or  appear- 
ance of  the  monarch  coincided  with  these  decrees  of  Providence.  In  this  case 
they  saw  a  small  wizened  man,  listless,  feeble,  inanimate,  with  a  body  shaken  \ . 
by  dissipation.  This  representative  of  the  old  race  of  the  fair-haired  Stuarts, 
was  a  little  dark-complexioned  man.  They  took  unkindly  to  him  from  the  first 
time  they  saw  him,  .and  in  less  than  three  months  from  landing  on  the  shores  of 
Scotland,  he  had  embarked  and  returned  to  France.  The  following  scurrilous 
description  of  his  defects  and  suspected  spurious  origin  extracted  from  a  con- 
temporary pamphlet,  is  worth  reproduction,  and  shows  that  the  Whigs  were  not 
altogether  devoid  of  humour  as  has  so  often  been  alleged.  '  Whereas  one 
James  Stewart,  alias  Oglethrope,  alias  Chevalier,  alias  Pretender,  alias  King, 
alias  No  King ;  neither  Caesar  nor  Nullus ;  neither  a  man  nor  a  mouse,  a  man's 
man  nor  a  woman's  man,  nor  a  statesman,  nor  a  little  man,  nor  a  great  man, 
neither  Englishman  nor  Frenchman,  but  a  mongrelion  between  both ;  neither  wise 
nor  otherwise ;  neither  soldier  nor  sailor,  nor  cardinal :  without  father  or  mother, 
without  friend  or  foe,  without  foresight  or  aftersight,  without  brains  or  bravery, 
without  house  or  home,  made  in  the  figure  of  a  man,"  but  just  alive  and  that's 
all ;  hath  clandestinely  lately  eloped  from  his  friends  through  a  back  door  and 
has  not  been  seen  or  heard  of  since  .  .  .  and  whereas  the  said  alias  pretended  to 
come  here,  to  watch  and  fight,  to  bring  men  and  money  with  him  to  train  an 
army  and  march  at  the  head  of  them,  to  fight  battles  and  besiege  towns,  but  in 
reality  did  none  of  these,  but  skulked  and  whined,  and  speeched  and  cryed,  stole 
to  his  head  quarters  by  night,  went  away  before  morning,  and  having  smelled 
gunpowder  and  dreamed  of  an  enemy,  burnt  the  country  and  ran  away  by  the 
light  of  it,'  &c.  &c. 

It  is  a  common  remark  that  all  the  wit  and  humour  of  the  Jacobite  period 
was  confined  to  the  supporters  of  the  Stuarts.  This  is  scarcely  correct,  for  any 
one  can  see  some  good  W^higgish  songs  in  Political  Merriment,  London,  1714. 

Several  well-known  ballads  exist  on  the  battle  of  Sheriffmuir.  The  oldest, 
consisting  of  twenty-one  stanzas  and  a  chorus,  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  26^ 
was  written  immediately  after  the  battle,  and  the  names  of  some  of  those 


464 


HISTORICAL   NOTES 


satirized  are  indicated  by  initials.  Burns  ascribed  it  to  the  Rev.  Murdoch 
McLennan,  minister  of  Crathie.  The  ballad  is  in  Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics,  1821, 
ii.  i,  with  three  additional  stanzas  by  himself. 

A  later  version  beginning  Pray  came  you  here  the  fight  to  shun,  was  written 
by  another  minister,  the  Rev.  John  Barclay,  of  Muthill  in  Perthshire.  Barclay's 
ballad  is  entitled  in  the  stall  copies  A  dialogue  between  Will  Lickladle  and  Tom 
Cleancogue,  to  the  tune  of  the  '  Cameron's  March.'  This  was  the  ballad  which 
Burns  imitated  and  amended.  He  told  the  publisher  of  the  Museum  that  the 
old  words  did  not  quite  please  him.  A  third  ballad  is  entitled  From  Bogie  Side, 
or  The  Marquis  s  Raide. 

The  London  fugitive  press  was  quite  as  active  on  Sheriffmuir,  but  it  is  dull 
compared  with  the  specimens  quoted.  A  dialogue  between  his  Grace  the  Duke 
of  Argyle  and  the  Earl  of  Mar  begins  '  Argyle  and  Mar  are  gone  to  war.' 
One  of  the  two  woodcuts  on  the  sheet  represents  a  kilted  Scot  riding  woman- 
fashion,  and  playing  the  Scotch  fiddle,  i.e.  scratching  himself.  A  second  is 
an  excellent  new  ballad  entitled  Mars  lament  for  his  rebellion ;  and  a  third 
The  Clan's  lamentation  for  their  own  folly.  All  three  are  dated  1715. 

Cameronian  Rant  is  a  strathspey  tune  of  considerable  merit,  and  admirably 
adapted  for  expressing  the  humorous  verses.  It  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1761, 
82 ;  in  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  6;  it  is  entitled  The  Cameronian  s  Reel  in 
McGlashan's  Strathspey  Reels,  1780,  16;  in  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  16;  and 
Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  707.  In  Bremner's  Reels,  1759,  49,  is  another 
spirited  reel  tune  entitled  Will  ye  go  to  Sheriffmuir.  A  third,  different  from 
either,  is  in  Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics,  1821,  ii.  250,  but  Cameronian  Rant  is  the 
best  of  the  three. 

Wo.  281.  Ye  Jacobites  by  name.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  371. 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  A  pithy  ironical  satire  couched  in 
equivocal  terms  which  may  be  read  by  either  Whig  or  Tory. 

The  tune  is  a  good  English  specimen  inserted  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  vi.  2ji, 
with  a  song  beginning  A  young  man  and  a  maid.  Stenhouse  quotes  the  title 
of  a  song,  '  You've  all  heard  of  Paul  Jones  have  you  not,  have  you  not]  sung  to 
the  melody  in  the  eighteenth  century  in  Edinburgh.  The  fame  of  Paul  Jones 
was  extended  by  means  of  songs  and  broadsides  from  Seven  Dials  and  elsewhere, 
after  the  buccaneer's  visit  to  the  East  coast  of  Scotland  in  1779.  In  one  of  his 
manuscripts  Burns  quotes  an  alternative  title  of  the  tune  Up  black-nebs  a\ 
evidently  as  belonging  to  a  song  now  unknown. 

No.  282.  O,  Kenmure 's  on  and  awa',  "Willie.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  359.  This  song  is  in  the  Edinburgh  Edition,  1877  and  Centenary 
Edition,  1897,  and  although  there  is  no  reasonable  doubt  that  Burns  contributed 
these  verses  to  the  Museum,  the  authority  for  that  rests  solely  on  Stenhouse, 
who,  in  his  Illustrations,  says :  '  Burns  transmitted  the  ballad  to  Johnson  in  his 
own  handwriting,  with  the  melody  to  which  it  is  adapted.'  There  is  no 
mark  in  any  edition  of  the  Museum  connecting  Burns  with  the  song,  nor  do 
I  know  where  the  manuscript  is.  Cromek  was  not  aware  that  Burns  wrote 
the  verses,  and  inserted  them  in  Nithsdale  and  Galloway  Song,  1810,  with 
three  stanzas  which  he  pretended  were  old.  With  these  additions  it  is 
reprinted  in  modern  collections  of  Jacobite  song  as  belonging  to  the  Rebellion 
of  1715.  The  confirmation  of  Stenhouse's  assertion  is  desirable.  Neither  the 
words  nor  the  melody  can  be  traced  before  publication  in  the  Museum.  The 
verses  and  music  in  the  Appendix  of  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1791,  are  an  exact 
copy  from  the  Museum.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  a  letter  April  3,  1820,  represented 
Lady  Huntley  playing  Kenmure  V  on  and  awa',  Willie,  in  a  way  enough  to  raise 
the  whole  country  side. 

Viscount  Kenmure,  the  hero  of  the  song,  led  the  chevalier's  army  of  the 
South-west  of  Scotland.  He  surrendered  at  Preston,  and  was  marched  through 
the  streets  of  London  to  the  Tower,  accompanied  by  a  howling  mob  with  tin 


VIII.    JACOBITE  465 


kettles  and  other  musical  instruments  of  a  like  sort.     He  was  condemned  and 
beheaded  on  February  24,  1716. 

*No.  283.  "When  we  gaed  to  the  braes  o'  Mar.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  188.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  In  the  Interleaved 
Museum  Burns  describes  how  he  obtained  the  verses,  as  follows  :  '  This  edition 
of  the  song  I  got  from  Tom  Niel,  of  facetious  fame  in  Edinburgh.  The 
expression  "  Up  and  warn  a'  Willie  "  alludes  to  the  Crantara,  or  warning  of 
a  Highland  clan  to  arms.  Not  understanding  this,  the  Lowlanders  of  the 
west  and  south  say,  "Up  and  waur  them  a','"  &c.  It  is  now  impossible  to 
discover  what  alterations  or  amendments  Burns  made,  but  the  verses  in  the 
text  contain  many  variations  from  the  original  song  of  seven  stanzas  in  The 
Charmer,  1752,  i.  61,  signed  '  B.  G.';  of  which  the  following  is  the  first 
stanza : — 

'When  we  went  to  the  field  of  war, 
And  to  the  weaponshaw,  Willy, 
With  true  design  to  stand  our  ground, 

And  chase  our  faes  awa,  Willy ; 
Lairds  and  lords  came  there  bedeen, 
And  vow  gin  they  were  pra',  Willy, 
Up  and  war  'em  a',  Willy; 
War  'em  a',  war  'em  a',  Willy.' 

The  song  belongs  to  the  Rebellion*  of  1715,  and  is  one  of  the  Sheriffmuir 
satires,  in  which  both  sides  are  treated  in  an  impartial  manner. 

The  tune  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751,  iii.  /;  Bremner's 
Reels >  1759,  60 ;  McLean's  Scots  Tunes,  c.  1772,  29-,  and  in  Johnson's 
Museum,  1788,  as  in  the  text.  It  contains  the  'Scotch  snap'  in  its  best  form 
so  inordinately  imitated  by  foreign  composers. 


No.  284.  Here's  a  health  to  them  that's  awa.  Partly  in  Cromek's 
J\eliques,  1808,  429,  entitled  Song:  patriotic -unfinished.  MS.  in  the 
British  Museum.  Written  when  Burns  had  the  Revolutionary  fever  about 
the  end  of  1792,  and  sent  to  Captain  William  Johnston,  the  editor  of  the 
new  Edinburgh  Gazetteer,  who  had  started  the  periodical  on  '  progressive '  prin- 
ciples. Johnston  was  subsequently  charged  with  a  treasonable  conspiracy, 
and  imprisoned.  At  this  time  Burns  was  suspected  of  holding  opinions  hostile 
to  the  Constitution,  and  it  was  alleged  that  he  had  proposed  the  following 
toast  at  a  public  meeting—'  Here's  the  last  verse  of  the  last  chapter  of  the  last 
Book  of  Kings.' 

Here's  a  health  to  them  that^s  awa  is  founded  on  a  Jacobite  ballad  of  which 
Hogg  has  a  copy  in  Jacobite  Reliques,  1819,  i. /o.  The  tune  does  not  appear 
to  have  been  printed  before  being  set  to  a  stanza  of  the  ballad  contributed  by 
Burns  to  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  412.  The  music  resembles 
that  of  song  No.  282. 

No.  285.  Wha  in  a  brulzie.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  ^7/. 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Framed  on  a  seventeenth  century  ballad 
which  may  be  seen  \njacobite  Relics,  1819,  i.  20.  Hogg  got  it  probably  from 
Myln's  manuscript.  It  is  a  trenchant  satire  on  the  Whigs  and  Covenanters, 
reputably  written  by  Lord  Newbottle  in  1688.  He  was  a  professional  politician, 
who  believed  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  live,  and  acted  on  the  principle 
that — 

'A  merciful  Providence  fashioned  us  holler 
A  purpose  that  we  might  our  principles  swaller.' 

He  changed  from  Whig  to  Tory,  was  made  a  Chief  Justice,  and  Lord  High 
Commissioner  of  the  Kirk  he  had  reviled.  He  died  the  first  Marquis  of 
Lothian.  He  sketches  and  satirizes  in  his  ballad  about  forty  of  the  principal 

Hh 


466 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Whigs  of  his  time.     I  quote  two  stanzas  as  a  specimen  of  the  verse  from 
Maidment's  Scotish  Pasquils,  1868,  328. 

'  Next  comes  our  statesmen,  these  blessed  reformers, 

For  lying,  for  drinking,  for  swearing  enormous; 
Argyle  and  brave  Morton,  and  Willie  my  Lordie — 

Bannocks  of  bear  meal,  cakes  of  Crowcly. 
My  curse  on  the  grain  of  this  hale  reformation, 

The  reproach  of  mankind,  and  disgrace  of  onr  nation; 
Deil  hash  them,  deil  smash  them,  arid  make  them  a  soudy, 

Knead  them  like  bannocks,  and  steer  them  like  crowdy.' 

A  satirical  song  on  an  Argyle  of  the  eighteenth  century  with  the  title 
Bannocks  o  barley  meal  is  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  280  ;  and  in  Herd  MS. 
is  a  rhyme  of  the  seventeenth  century : — 


Mass  David  Williamson, 

Chosen  of  twenty, 
Gaed  up  to  the 


And  sang  Killiecrankie 


i  pulpit 
illiecrankie. 


Saw  ye  e'er,  heard  ye  e'er- 

Siccan  a  soudie? 
Bannocks  o*  bear  meal, 

Cakes  o'  crowdie  ! ' 


The  tune  The  killogie  was  kept  in  use  by  a  rustic  song  beginning  '  A  lad  and 
a  lassie  lay  on  a  killogie.'  The  verses  are  neither  edifying  nor  instructive.  The 
tune  rejoiced  in  a  variety  of  names.  It  is  Bonox  of  bear  meal  in  Sinkler's  MS., 
1 710 ;  as  Johnny  and  Nelly  in  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1725,  No.  21 ;  as  /'//  never 
leave  thee  in  Watts's  Musical  Miscellany,  1730,  iv.  74;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes, 
1 746,  8,  to  which  Burns  directed  Johnson  for  the  tune ;  and  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1803,  No.  foj.  Two  settings  are  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket 
Companion,  1751,  iii.  6.  One  entitled  Banoks  of  Bear  meal,  and  the  other 
in  vol.  vi.  1754,  26,  as  There  was  a  lad  and  a  lass  in  a  killogie. 

No.  286.  The  small  birds  rejoice.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  97. 
'  From  a  MS.  by  Robert  Burns.  Irish  Air,  Captain  CPKane:  Currie's  Works, 
1800,  ii.  145.  Several  MSS.  exist.  On  March  31,  1788,  Burns  wrote  from 
Mauchline,  to  his  friend  James  Cleghorn,  farmer,  as  follows :  '  Yesterday,  as 
I  was  riding  thro'  a  track  of  melancholy,  joyless  muirs,  between  Galloway  and 
Ayrshire ;  it  being  Sunday,  I  turned  my  thoughts  to  psalms  and  hymns  and 
spiritual  songs;  and  your  favourite  air  Captain  C? Kane  coming  at  length  in 
my  head,  I  tried  these  words  to  it. '  You  will  see  that  the  first  part  of  the  tune 
must  be  repeated.  I  am  tolerably  pleased  with  these  verses,  but  as  I  have  only 
a  sketch  of  the  tune,  I  leave  it  with  you  to  try  if  they  suit  the  measure  of  the 
music.'  Burns  adopted  Cleghorn's  suggestion  to  complete  the  song  with 
a  Jacobite  stanza,  which  is  assumed  to  be  sung  by  Prince  Charles  Stuart,  after 
the  Battle  of  Culloden.  Some  time  early  in  1793  he  sent  a  complete  copy  of 
the  song  to  Thomson. 

The  Irish  tune  Captain  O'Kane  is  in  McGlashan's  Reels,  1786, 36;  Aird's 
Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  493',  and  Johnson's  Museum,  1803,  No.  jo8. 

No.  287.  My  love  was  born  in  Aberdeen.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1 790,  No.  2^2,  entitled  The  white  cockade.  In  Law's  MS.  List,  '  Mr.  Burns's 
old  words/  The  flying  stationers  of  last  century  printed  the  original,  which 
Herd  copied  into  his  Scottish  Songs,  17/6,  ii.  779.  Burns  by  a  few  touches  turned 
it  into  a  decided  Jacobite  song.  Here  is  the  first  stanza  from  Herd : — 

'  My  love  was  born  in  Aberdeen, 

The  bonniest  lad  that  e'er  was  seen ; 
O,  he  is  forced  from  me  to  gae 
Over  the  hills  and  far  away.' 

The  words  and  music  in  our  text  are  from  the  Museum.  The  tune  is  also 
in  Campbell's  Keels,  1778,  7;  and  in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  i,  entitled  The 
ranting  highlandman. 


VIII.     JACOBITE  467 


No.  288.  The  noble  Maxwells  and  their  powers.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  364,  signed  *R,'  entitled  Nithsdale's  welcome  hame. 
MS.  in  the  British  Museum.  Lady  Winnifred  Maxwell  Constable  was  the 
granddaughter  of  the  rebel  Earl  of  Nithsdale  who  escaped  from  the  Tower 
by  his  wife's  ingenuity  and  bravery.  Lady  Winnifred  rebuilt  in  1788  Ter- 
reagles  House,  the  ancient  seat  of  the  family,  where  Burns  dined  more  than 
once,  and  was  impressed  by  the  number  of  wax  candles  used  in  lighting  the 
house.  Sir  Walter  Scott  sent  a  letter  to  Lockhart  dated  July  14,  1828,  on 
Burns's  connexion  with  Jacobitism  in  which  he  says :  '  I  see,  by  the  by,  that 
your  life  of  Burns  is  going  to  press  again,  and  therefore  send  you  a  few  letters, 
which  may  be  of  use  to  you.  In  one  of  them  (to  that  singular  old  curmudgeon, 
Lady  Winnifred  Constable)  you  will  see  he  plays  high  Jacobite,  and  on  that 
account  it  is  curious ;  though  I  imagine  his  Jacobitism,  like  my  own,  belonged 
to  the  fancy  rather  than  the  reason,'  &c. 

The  tune  Nithsdale  s  welcome  hame  is  the  composition  of  Robert  Riddell  of 
Glenriddell,  one  of  his  best  melodies.  It  is  in  neither  of  his  printed  collections 
of  tunes,  but  the  following  unpublished  Note  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  is  in 
his  handwriting,  '  I  composed  the  tune  and,  imparting  to  my  friend  Mr.  Burns 
the  name  I  meant  to  give  it,  he  composed  for  the  tune  the  words  here 
inserted.' 

No.  289.  My  Harry  was  a  gallant  gay.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790, 
No.  209.  Tune,  Highlander  s  lament.  The  MS.  copy  in  the  British  Museum 
is  not  in  Burns's  handwriting,  and  it  contains  two  stanzas  not  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum.  The  additional  stanzas  refer  to  77ie  auld  Stewarts  back 
again,  a  different  tune  to  that  in  the  text.  In  Law's  MS.  List,  '  Mr.  B— 's 
old  words.'  This  and  Nos.  292  and  .297  are  reminiscences  of  the  Highland 
tour.  *  The  oldest  title  I  ever  heard  to  this  air  was  The  Highland  Watch's 
farewell  to  Ireland.  The  chorus  I  picked  up  from  an  old  woman  in  Dumblane ; 
the  rest  of  the  song  is  mine'  (Interleaved  Museuni).  The  42nd  regiment,  or 
Black  Watch,  was  quartered  in  different  parts  of  Ireland  for  seven  years 
between  1749  and  1756,  and  the  latter  year  may  be  taken  as  the  date  of  the 
tune  which  is  entitled  Highland  Watch's  farewell  to  Ireland  in  Stewart's  Reels, 
1762,  27,  and  as  Highlander  s  farewell  in  Ross's  Reels,  1780,  10. 

No.  290.  An  somebody  were  come  again.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  239.  Tune,  Car/,  an  the  King  come.  Stenhouse  is  the  sole 
authority  for  the  statement  that  Burns  wrote  only  the  second  stanza,  but 
nothing  is  known  of  any  early  song  of  the  kind.  For  the  tune,  Allan  Ramsay 
wrote  verses  entitled  The  promised  Joy,  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Tea-Table 
Miscellany,  1724.  A  song  in  the  '  Gentle  Shepherd'' — Peggy,  now  the  King's 
come — is  on  the  same  page  of  the  Mttseum  as  Carl,  an  the  King  come. 
Ritson  could  throw  no  light  on  the  words,  and  on  Burns's  song  in  Scotish  Songs, 
1794,  ii.  4j,  he  quotes  a  fragment  thus  : — 

'  When  yellow  corn  grows  on  the  rigs, 
And  a  gibbet 's  made  to  hang  the  Whigs, 
O,  then  we  will  dance  Scotish  jigs, 
Carle,  an  the  king  come.' 

The  tune  was  exceedingly  popular  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is  in  most 
of  the  best  collections  of  Scottish  music,  including  Ramsay's  Musick,  c.  1726; 
Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  //;  and  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1755,  16. 
A  considerable  variation  had  taken  place  in  the  melody  since  the  middle  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  The  old  form  ends  on  the  minor  in  the  last  two 
collections  named.  In  the  text  the  second  part  of  the  tune  is  an  octave  lower 
than  that  of  the  copy  in  the  Museum. 

*No.  291.  Sir  John  Cope  trode  the  north  right  far.  This  is  the  first 
time  Obz-ijohnie  Cope  has  been  inserted  in  the  works  of  Burns.  His  name  was 

H  h  2 


463 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


incidentally  connected  with  it  by  Stenhouse,  and  it  is  necessary  to  produce  the 
evidence  for  its  insertion  here.  It  is  the  original  of  three  different  ballads,  and 
its  anonymous  publication  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  234., 

C;ceded  the  other  two  by  four  years.  As  may  be  seen  in  the  facsimile  of 
w's  MS.,  Burns  marked  it '  Sir  John  Cope  trode  the  North  &c. — Mr.  Burns's 
old  words.'  The  MS.  of  the  song  is  at  present  unknown,  but  it  is  certain  that 
he  contributed  it  to  Johnson's  Museum.  I  was  puzzled  to  reconcile  this  fact 
with  his  note  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808,  272,  until  I  discovered  from  an 
examination  of  the  Interleaved  Museum  that  the  first  portion  of  the  note  in" 
Cromek  was  not  written  by  Burns  but  by  Robert  Riddell  thus :  '  This 
satirical  song  was  composed  to  commemorate  General  Cope's  defeat  at 
Preston  Pans  in  1745,  when  he  marched  against  the  Clans.'  So  far  Riddell 
obviously  did  not  know  that  Burns  had  anything  to  do  with  the  verses ;  and 
the  poet  did  not  inform  him  in  the  studiously  vague  addition  to  the  note 
which  follows  in  his  own  handwriting :  '  The  air  was  the  tune  of  an  old  song, 
of  which  I  have  heard  some  verses,  but  now  only  remember  the  title,  which  was 
Will  you  go  to  the  coals  in  the  morning?1  This  forgotten  song,  consisting  of 
eight  stanzas  and  a  chorus  very  different  from  that  in  our  text,  was  published  as 
a  foot-note  in  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  ii.  84 ,  beginning  'Coup  sent  a 
challenge  frae  Dunbar,'  the  chorus  ending  with  the  title  quoted  by  Burns. 
Ritson  on  the  same  page  has  printed  a  different  song  of  nine  stanzas  without 
chorus,  opening  with  the  same  line  as  the  other,  and  he  remarks  that  the  version 
in  the  Museum  '  is  a  copy  differing  very  much  from  both.'  Stenhouse  confused 
matters  by  asserting  that  Adam  Skirving,  the  author  of  the  song  Tranent  Muir, 
wrote  2\?>Qjohnie  Cope  of  the  Museum;  but  Ritson,  who  published  his  collection 
nearlv  thirty  years  before  Stenhouse's  Illustrations  were  issued,  and  took  infinite 
pains  over  his  works,  was  ignorant  of  the  author  Q{  Johnie  Cope,  and  expressed 
a  wish  to  know  who  wrote  any  of  the  three  songs.  On  Stenhouse's  unverified 
statement  Skirving's  name  is  repeated  as  the  author  to  this  day.  Much  of 
Johnie  Cope  is  carelessly  written  in  faulty  rhyme,  but  the  sarcastic  verses  and 
the  rollicking  melody  have  perpetuated  the  song  ;  and  the  common-place 
knight  Sir  John  Cope  would  long  ere  this  have  passed  into  oblivion  but  for  the 
song.  His  circular  march  through  the  North  of  Scotland  in  1 745  and  return 
voyage  to  Dunbar ;  his  defeat  at  Gladsmuir,  Preston  Pans,  or  Tranent  Muir  are 
better  known  than  the  career  of  more  distinguished  men.  Burns  did  not  admire 
the  air  Johnie  Cope,  and  his  verses  are  in  evidence  as  a  reason  why  he  did  not 
acknowledge  them  except  in  the  MS.  List  for  the  Museum.  The  tune  is  in 
Oswald's  Companion,  1759,  ix.  n\  McLean's  Scots  Tunes,  c.  1772,2;;  Aird's 
Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  52 ;  and  in  Johnson's  Museum  as  in  the  text. 

No.  292.  Loud  blaw  the  frosty  breezes.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788, 
No. /^j,  entitled  the  Young  high  la  nd  rover,  signed  '  R.'  Tune,  Morag.  The 
MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum  and  the  song  is  in  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799, 
67.  On  September  7,  1787,  Burns  and  his  companion,  being  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Castle  Gordon,  the  poet  called  on  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  who 
received  him  with  the  greatest  kindness  and  hospitality.  He  dined  with  the 
company  at  the  Castle,  and  was  pressed  to  remain,  but  he  was  obliged  to  refuse 
as  he  had  left  Nicol  at  Fochaber's  Inn.  The  Duke  sent  a  special  messenger  to 
invite  Nicol  to  the  Castle,  but  the  irascible  Schoolmaster  had  already  exhausted 
his  small  stock  of  patience,  and  bluntly  declined  the  invitation.  Burns  found 
him  pacing  in  front  of  the  Inn  with  a  carriage  and  horses  ready  to  start.  The 
poet  subsequently  described  himself  '  as  travelling  with  a  blunderbuss  at  full 
cock,'  and  this  time  it  went  off.  Writing  afterwards  to  the  Duke's  librarian, 
he  said  :  '  I  shall  certainly,  among  my  legacies,  leave  my  latest  curse  to  that 
unlucky  predicament  which  hurried — tore  rrie  from  Castle  Gordon.  May  that 
dbstinate  son  of  Latin  prose  be  curst  to  Scotch- mile  periods,  and  damned  to 
seven-leagued  paragraphs;  while  Declension  and  Conjugation,  Gender,  Number, 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


469 


and  Tense,  under  the  ragged  banners  of  Dissonance  and  Disarrangement, 
eternally  rank  against  him  in  hostile  array.'  According  to  Stenhouse  the 
song  was  written  to  commemorate  the  visit  of  Prince  Charles  Stuart  to  Castle 
Gordon,  before  his  defeat  at  Culloden. 

The  tune  Morag  is  a  Celtic  air  justly  admired  by  Burns.  In  1 794  he  wrote 
to  George  Thomson,  that  this  song  was  not  worthy  of  the  air.  It  is  very  little 
known  and  ought  to  be  popular,  if  only  on  account  of  the  melody.  When 
sending  a  copy  of  the  Museum  containing  the  song  to  Rose  of  Kilravock  and 
to  the  Duke's  librarian,  Burns  spoke  of  the  melody  in  enthusiastic  terms.  The 
tune  is  in  Dow's  Scots  Music,  c.  1 776,  46.  A  bad  copy  is  in  Fraser's  Highland 
Airs,  No.  119.  See  No.  98. 

Wo.  293.  My  heart  is  wae,  and  unco  wae.  Chambers's  Edition,  1852. 
Tune,  Mary's  Dream.  A  facsimile  is  in  the  Centenary  Edition,  1897,  iv.  90. 
It  is  supposed  to  have  been  written  immediately  after  the  receipt  of  the  news  of 
the  supposed  marriage  of  Miss  Walkinshaw  with  Prince  Charles  Stuart,  who 
declared  the  legitimation  of  his  daughter  by  a  formal  deed,  registered  in  France 
in  December,  1787.  On  his  death  the  year  following  the  putative  Duchess  of 
Albany  was  assumed  to  be  his  sole  heir.  The  verses  are  more  than-  a  sentimental 
effusion  of  Jacobitism.  The  tune  Mary's  Dream  is  the  composition  of  John 
Lowe,  a  minor  poet,  and  the  author  of  the  song  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me. 
Lowe,  the  son  of  a  gardener  to  the  Earl  of  Kenmore,  was  born  in  Galloway  in 
the  year  1750.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  weaver;  he 
educated  himself,  and  entered  the  University  of  Edinburgh  as  a  student  of 
Divinity.  He  is  said  to  have  written  a  tragedy,  was  a  skilful  musician,  and 
a  player  on  the  violin.  He  died  in  America  in  1798.  Kirkpatrick  Sharpe 
severely  censured  Allan  Cunningham  for  mutilating  Lowe's  song.  All  the 
mischief  done  by  '  Honest  Allan  '  as  a  literary  forger  will  never  be  discovered. 

The  tune  Mary's  Dream  is  from  the  Perth  Musical  Miscellany,  1786,  96, 
where  it  is  printed  with  Lowe's  verses.  The  music  is  also  in  the  Museum, 

1787,  No.  3T,  Calliope,  1788,  16  ;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1788,  iii.  No.  480. 

Wo.  294.  Come  boat  me  o'er,  come  row  me  o'er.    Scots  Musical  Museum, 

1788,  ii.  No.  187.     The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.    This  is  a  version  which, 
according  to  Stenhouse,  was  revised  and  corrected  by  Burns.     The  refrain 
slightly  varied  belongs  to  the  Jacobite  events  of  1 745.     The  loyalist  collections 
of  the  period  contain  several  songs  of  the  kind,  but  no  model  of  this  one  is 
known.     For  note  on  the  lune,  see  No.  230. 

Wo.  295.  O,  I  am  come  to  the  low  countrie.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  498,  entitled  The  Highland  widow's  lament.  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  This,  or  the  germ  of  it  is  supposed  to  have  been  obtained 
from  the  Highlands.  The  sentiment  of  the  verses  is  noble,  the  loss  of  flocks 
and  herds  is  not  considered  of  any  consequence  compared  with  the  defence  of  the 
rightful  heir  to  the  throne.  On  a  different  song,  Oh  ono  chrio,  i.e.  Lament  for 
the  chief  in  the  Museum,  1787,  No.  89,  Burns  wrote  the  following  note: 
'Dr.  Blacklock  informed  me  that  this  song  was  composed  on  the  infamous 
massacre  of  Glencoe '  (Interleaved  Museunf).  Burns  contributed  the  melody 
of  his  song  to  the  Museum  where  it  was  first  printed.  Schumann  was 
impressed  with  the  simple  phrases  and  took  them  as  the  theme  of  an  original 
composition  for  the  verses  of  Burns.  It  is  in  his  Liederkreis,  Op.  25. 

Wo.  296.  It  was  a'  for  our  rightfu'  king.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  497.  These  stirring  and  romantic  verses  were  from  the  hand  of  Burns,  and 
Stenhouse  first  connected  his  name  with  them.  Cunningham  and  afterwards 
Hogg  and  Motherwell  inserted  them  in  the  Works  of  Burns,  and  finally  Scott- 
Douglas,  in  the  Edinburgh  Edition,  1877,  iii.  192,  produced  a  facsimile  of  the 
Burns  MS.  A  ballad  which  Motherwell  printed  in  1834  is  the  founda- 
tion of  Burns's  verses.  But  the  original  is  a  street  ballad,  Mally  Stuart, 


470  HISTORICAL   NOTES 

supposed  to  belong  to  the  Rebellion  of  1745  (see  Centenary  Burns,  vol.  iii.) 
which  was  reproduced  in  Chap  books  with  considerable  variations,  and  was 
popular  in  the  streets  of  Edinburgh  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The 
only  stanza"  which  Burns  borrowed  is  the  last  one  in  the  ballad  from  a  contem- 
porary Chap  book  in  my  possession,  as  follows: — 

'  The  trooper  turned  himself  round  about 

All  on  the  Irish  shore; 
He  has  gi'en  the  bridle  reins  a  shake, 
Saying,  "Adieu  for  evermore,  my  dear"; 
Saying,  "Adieu  for  evermore."' 

The  rest  of  Burns's  song  owes  nothing  to  the  original,  except  the  rhythm.  The 
street  ballad  of  Bonny  Mally  Stuart  of  bonny  Stirling  town  '  in  eleven  stanzas, 
remarkable  for  its  disregard  of  metre,  describes  the  parting  of  the  trooper  with 
his  sweetheart  who,  however,  disguises  herself  in  men's  clothes  and  follows  him. 
The  tune  Mally  Stuart  is  a  variation  of  The  bailiff's  daughter  of  Islington,  an 
English  melody  of  the  seventeenth  century.  In  the  black  letter  copies  this 
ballad  is  directed  to  be  sung  to  a  North  country  tune,  or  /  have  a  good  old 
mother  at  home. 

No.  297.  Thickest  night,  surround  my  dwelling.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  132,  signed  '  B':  to  the  Tune,  Strathallan 's  lament.  The 
MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Burns  passed  through  Strathallan  on  August 
28,  1787 ;  shortly  afterwards  he  wrote  the  song.  William  Drummond, 
Viscount  Strathallan,  was  killed  at  Culloden.  His  son  James,  Viscount 
Strathallan,  on  whom  the  song  was  written,  was  attainted,  and  after  the  disas- 
trous rout  of  the  Chevalier's  army  fled  to  the  hills,  where  he  hid  until  he  found 
an  opportunity  of  escaping  to  France.  He  joined  the  Court  of  Prince  Charles, 
remained  abroad,  and  died  an  exile.  From  the  Rebellion  to  the  end  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  almost  every  poet  wrote  Jacobite  songs  more  or  less  sympathetic. 
Burns  made  the  following  memorandum  on  Strathallan  s  lament :  '  This  air  is 
the  composition  of  one  of  the  worthiest  and  best-hearted  men  living — Allan 
Masteiton,  School  Master  in  Edinburgh.  As  he  and  I  were  both  sprouts  of 
Jacobitism,  we  agreed  to  dedicate  the  words  and  air  to  that  cause.  To  tell  the 
matter  of  fact,  except  when  my  passions  were  heated  by  some  accidental  cause, 
my  Jacobitism  was  merely  by  way  of  vive  la  bagatelle*  (Interleaved  Museum). 
The  accidental  causes  were  frequent,  and  he  never  wrote  anything  on  the 
Hanover  family  to  show  he  had  any  affection  for  it. 

Another  MS.  of  the  song  differs  from  that  in  the  text.  The  first  line  is 
'Thickest  darkness  o'erhang  my  dwelling/  and  the  first  half  of  the  second 
stanza  is  as  follows : — 

'  Farewell  fleeting,  fickle  treasure, 

Between  mishap  and  folly  shar'd ; 
Farewell  peace  and  farewell  pleasure, 

Farewell  flattering  man's  regard/ 

The  melody  cannot  be  mistaken  for  an  old  air. 

No.  298.  There  grows  a  bonie  brier-bush  in  our  kail-yard.  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  492,  marked  '  Z.'  Centenary  Burns,  1897,  iii. 
180.  The  MS.  in  Burns's  handwriting  is  in  the  British  Museum.  This  is  sup- 
posed to  be  an  old  song  with  alterations,  but  nothing  of  it  is  known  prior  to 
Burns's  manuscript.  Stenhouse,  as  the  earliest  commentator,  need  only  be 
referred  to  :  '  This  song,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  lines  which  are  old,  was 
written  by  Burns  for  the  Museum.  .  .  .  Burns  likewise  communicated  the  air  to 
which  the  words  are  adapted '  (lllnst.  p.  432}.  I  can  find  no  song  of  the  kind 
in  any  of  the  many  collections  examined.  From  the  verses  of  Burns  a 
pungent  critic  branded  the  modern  school  of  Scottish  sentimental  fiction  '  Kail- 
yard literature.'  Baroness  Nairne  wrote  an  imitation  of  The  bonie  brier-bush, 


VIII.     JACOBITE 


471 


and  in  the  Scottish  Minstrel,  1821,  i.  22,  is  a  combination  of  Burns  and  Nairne, 
which  is  stated  in  the  Index  to  be  by  Burns,  The  original  publication  of  the 
tune  is  in  the  Museum  with  the  verses,  but  it  contains  phrases  of  an  older  tune. 

No.  299.  The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  401,  signed  '  B.'  Select  Melodies,  1823,  v.  77.  'Mr.  Burns's  old  words' 
(Museum  -MS.  Lists}.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  All  but  the  opening 
four  lines  are  by  Burns,  and  form  one  of  his  best  songs  on  a  subject  which 
deeply  interested  him.  The  Battle  of  Culloden,  or  Drumossie  Moor,  fought  on 
April  1 6,  1746,  finished  the  career  of  Charles  Edward  Stuart  in  Scotland. 
William,  Duke  of  Cumberland,  the  Commander  of  the  government  army,  was 
the  most  detested  name  in  Scotland  for  half  a  century,  and  the  subject  of  the 
strongest  invective  in  prose  and  verse.  Cromek,  in  Nithsdale  and  Galloway 
Song,  1810,  published  Cumberland  and  Murray's  descent  into  Hell,  reprinted 
in  Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics,  1821,  ii.  199.  It  is  unsurpassed  for  brutal  sarcasm, 
and  I  suspect  was  written  either  by  Hogg  or  Cunningham.  Burns  visited 
the  field  of  Culloden  in  1787,  and  in  his  diary  of  the  Highland  tour  he  has 
recorded  his  reflections  on  the  final  disaster  of  the  Stuarts. 

It  may  be  remarked  here  that  it  was  owing  to  the  Rebellion  that  God  save 
the  king  was  first  publicly  performed  and  recognized  as  a  national  air.  In 
September,  1 745,  it  was  sung  in  chorus  from  the  stage  of  the  London  theatres, 
and  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  was  honoured  with  a  complete  stanza  : — 

'  O,  grant  that  Cumberland 
May,  by  his  mighty  hand, 
Victory  bring; 
May  he  sedition  hush, 
And  like  a  torrent  rush, 
Rebellious  hearts  to  crush, 

God  save  the  king.' 

The  news  of  the  defeat  at  Culloden  arrived  at  Covent  Garden  theatre  during 
a  performance,  which  was  interrupted  while  the  actors  sung  the  anthem. 

The  tune  The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness,  originally  published  in  1 740,  is  the 
composition  of  James  Oswald,  and  is  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1743,  i.  p.  Johnson,  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  originally  intended  it  for 
a  song  beginning  '  Upon  the  flowery  banks  of  Tweed/  but  Burns  directed  his 
own  song  for  it,  and  so  it  was  printed. 

No.  300.  Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  braw,  lad  P  Scols  Musical  Museum, 
1790,  No.  292,  signed  *  Z,'  entitled  Killiecrankie.  There  is  nothing  directly 
connecting  Burns  with  this  song.  The  note  in  the  Interleaved  Museum,  written 
by  Robert  Riddell,  is  only  historical.  Stenhouse  says,  '  The  chorus  is  old. 
The  rest  of  it,  beginning  Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  braw.  lad,  was  written  in  1789 
by  Burns  on  purpose  for  the  Museum '  (frustrations,  p.  287}.  No  one  has 
disputed  this  statement.  In  the  Highland  tour,  Burns  passed  through  Killie- 
crankie on  August  31,  1787. 

Killiecrankie  is  represented  as  a  malignant  song  in  Scotch  Presbyterian 
Eloquence  Display  d,  a  contemporary  publication.  The  battle  took  place  on 
July  27,  1689,  in  the  celebrated  pass  which  Burton,  the  historian,  describes  as 
the  most  picturesque  of  Scottish  battlefields.  Here  John  Claverhouse,  the 
darling  of  the  Cavaliers  and  the  accursed  of  the  Covenanters,  was  killed. 
The  Highlanders  won,  but  the  loss  of  Claverhouse  ('  Clavers  got  a  clankie,  O  ') 
and  Haliburton,  of  Pitcur,  outweighed  the  gain,  and  the  cause  of  James  VII 
declined  from  that  time. 

The  tune^w'  ye  had  been  where  I  hae  been  is  a  different  melody  from  Killie- 
crankie, No.  256  supra,  to  which  Burns  drew  the  attention  of  Johnson.  The  music 
is  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1755,^ ;  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1758,  ix.  18;  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No./7.  The  title  is  clearly  part  of  the  words 


472  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

of  the  old  song  which  Burns  rewrote  or  amended.  In  Leydens  MS.,  1692,  the 
tune  is  styled  Killie  Crankie ;  and  a  phrase  of  My  mistres  blush  is  bonie  in  the 
Skene  MS.,  c.  1630,  is  a  part  of  the  air. 

No.  301.  The  bonniest  lad  that  .e'er  I  saw.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  468.  Centenary  Burns,  1877,  iii.  272,  is  in  the  British  Museum. 
This  sprig  of  militant  Jacobitism  is  a  revised  version  of  a  small  portion  of  a 
long  song  of  the  1745  period  with  the  additional  first  stanza  by  Burns.  The 
tune  is  entitled  If  thoult  play  me  fair  play  from  the  first  line  of  a  song  in  Loyal 
Songs,  1750.  The  music  is  earlier  than  the  Rebellion  of  1745.  It  is  in 
Oswald's  Curious  Scots  Tunes,  1742  ;  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1743,  i.  j6,  without  a  title;  in  Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1759,  47-,  Campbell's 
Keels,  1778,  70;  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  i.  No.  32.  It  is  corrupted  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Miiscum,  1796,  No.  468. 

No.  302.  By  yon  Castle  wa'  at  the  close  of  the  day.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  315.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  A  copy  was 
sent  to  Alexander  Cunningham,"  Edinburgh,  on  March  12,  1791,  in  a  letter, 
in  which  Burns  says  :  '  You  must  know  a  beautiful  Jacobite  air  There'll  never 
be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  kame.  When  political  combustion  ceases  to  be  the 
object  of  princes  and  patriots,  it  then,  you  know,  becomes  the  lawful  prey  of 
historians  and  poets.  If  you  like  the  air,  and  if  the  stanzas  hit  your  fancy,  you 
cannot  imagine,  my  dear  friend,  how  much  you  would  oblige  me  if,  by  the 
charms  of  your  delightful  voice,  you  would  give  my  honest  effusion  to  "  the  memory 
of  joys  that  are  past "  to  the  few  friends  whom  you  indulge  in  that  pleasure.' 

The  following  note  is  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  by  Burns.  'This  tune  is 
sometimes  called  "  There 's  few  good  fellows  when  Jamie  's  awa,"  —  but  I  never 
have  been  able  to  meet  with  anything  else  of  the  song  than  the  title.'  The  song 
referred  to  is  unknown  ;  it  was  on  the  Stuarts,  and  was  probably  suppressed. 

The  tune  is  in  Oswald's  Curious  Scots  Tunes,  1740,  22,  and  the  same 
publisher's  Caledonian-Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  20,  with  the  title  as  in  the 
text;  and  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  jo,  entitled  Ther' II  never  be  peace 
till  Jamie  comes  hame.  See  No.  21  supra.  ° — ^  vo«.  fc\. 

No.  303.  I  hae  been  at  Crookieden.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  332,  entitled  Bonie  laddie,  highland  laddie.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  This,  with  Nos.  joi  and  jo6,  is  representative  of  a  large  class 
common  to  the  eighteenth  century  which  exercised  considerable  influence  on 
the  politics  of  the  country.  The  present  song  appeared  in  Hogg's  Jacobite 
Relics,  1821,  ii.  202,  considerably  enlarged  probably  by  Hogg,  who  let  himself 
go  in  very  violent  language.  A  very  inoffensive  model  of  Burns  is  in  a  MS.  of 
the  period  to  which  the  song  refers.  '  Willie '  and  '  the  Duke '  of  the  text  are 
the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  who  is  represented  in  Satan's  hall  waiting  to  be 
roasted  and  basted. 

The  tune,  according  to  Mr.  Glen,  is  in  Rutherford's  Country  Dances,  1 749, 
as  The  new  highland  laddie;  it  is  in  Oswald's  Companion,  1754,  vi.  i,  entitled 
The  old  highland  laddie  as  marked  by  Burns  on  the  MS.  of  his  verses. 

No.  304.  'Twas  on  a  Monday  morning.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796, 
No.  428,  entitled  Charlie  he's  my  darling.  No  signature,  initial,  or  note. 
'Written  for  this  work  by  Robert  Burns,'  so  often  attached  to  songs  in  the 
later  issues  of  Johnson's  Museum,  indicates  the  source,  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  the  holograph  of  Burns  in  the  British  Museum  is  the  original 
manuscript  of  the  verses.  No  trace  of  any  such  song,  not  even  a  title,  is  in 
the  musical  and  other  Collections  of  Scottish  song,  and  presumably  Charlie 
he^s  my  darling  is  a  pure  original.  Stenhouse,  in  Illustrations,  1839,  ^rst 
connected  Burns  in  these  words :  '  'Twas  on  a  Monday  morning'  was  communi- 
cated by  Burns  to  the  editor  of  the  Museum.  The  air  was  modernized  by 
Clarke.  The  reader  will  find  a  genuine  copy  of  the  old  air  in  Hoggs  Jacobite 
Relics,  1821,  ii.  92'  On  this  I  may  remark  that  Stenhouse  is  not  known  to 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  473 

have  had  a  personal  acquaintance  with  Clarke,  the  musical  editor  of  the 
Museum,  and  that  Stenhouse  himself  communicated  to  Hogg  the  '  genuine 
copy  of  the  air '  which  consists  principally  in  leaving  out  the  accidental  sharps. 
The  modern  set  of  the  air  differs  from  that  of  the  original  as  in  our  text. 

No.  305.  Frae  the  friends  and  land  I  love.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  J02.  Tune,  Carron  side.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The 
first  of  a  series  of  Jacobite  songs  printed  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  Museum. 
In  the  Interleaved  Museum  Burns  says  of  the  present  verses  :  '  I  added  the  four 
last  lines  by  way  of  giving  a  turn  to  the  theme  of  the  poem,  such  as  it  is.'  No 
other  song  of  the  kind  has  been  discovered,  and  I  have  failed  to  find  it. 
The  present  verses  were  printed  in  the  Museum  with  a  bad  copy  of  the  tune 
Carron  side.  The  music  in  the  text  is  taken  from  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, c.  1 756,  viii.  10,  there  designated  '  a  plaintive  air,'  which  was  originally 
published  in  1740. 

No.  306.  A.S  I  came  o'er  the  Cairney  mount.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  ^67,  signed  'Z.'  Centenary  Burns,  1897,  iii.  171.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  The  fragment  is  a  much  revised  version  of  an  old  song 
of  four  stanzas  in  the  Merry  Muses.  The  tune  was  first  printed  as  The  highland 
lassie  in  Oswald's  Curious  Collection  of  Scots  Tunes ,  1740,^7 ;  it  is  in  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.  12  \  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  ij  it  is 
entitled  The  highland  laddie,  one  of  the  numerous  tunes  of  the  name.  The 
editor  of  the  Museum  copied  the  music  from  Aird's  Airs,  iii.  No.  164  as  Burns 
directed  on  his  manuscript.  In  the  Interleaved  Museum  the  note  of  Burns  is  : 
'  The  first  and  indeed  the  most  beautiful  set  of  this  tune  was  formerly,  and  in 
some  places  is  still,  known  by  the  name  of  As  I  cam  o'er  the  Cairney  mount, 
which  is  the  first  line  of  an  excellent  but  somewhat  licentious  song  still  sung  to 
the  tune.'  This  is  the  whole  of  the  note  written  by  Burns  which  Cromek  has 
expanded  and  garbled  in  Reliques,  1808,  pp.  .207  and  208. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS. 

No.  307.  The  sun  he  is  sunk  in  the  west.  Chambers,  Works,  1852, 
entitled  'Song: — In  the  character  of  a  ruined  farmer.  Tune,  Go  from  my 
window,  love,  do?  The  MS.  of  this  doleful  ditty  in  the  handwriting  of  Burns, 
refers  to  the  early  farming  distress,  and  represents  his  father  as  a  '  brave  man 
struggling  with  adversity.'  The  metre  is  peculiar  and  uncommon  for  Scottish 
verse,  but  it  was  constructed  for  a  tune  which  Burns  however,  at  a  later  time, 
is  said  to  have  communicated  to  the  editor  of  the  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
accompanied  by  some  traditional  verses.  See  Appendix,  '  As  I  lay  on  my  bed 
on  a  night.' 

No.  308.  There  was  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle.  Cromek's  Reliques, 
1808,  341,  entitled  'Fragment.  Tune,  Dainty  Davie?  This  is  one  of  the 
best  known  and  most  popular  of  Burns's  songs,  and  his  note  on  the  MS.  of 
the  second  stanza  states  '  the  date  of  my  Bardship's  vital  existence.'  He  sent 
a  parody  of  it  to  Mrs.  Dunlop,  of  which  the  following  is  the  first  stanza  in  the 
Second  Commonplace  Book : — 

'  There  was  a  birkie  born  in  Kyle, 
But  what  na  day,  o'  what  na  style, 
I  doubt  its  hardly  worth  the  while 

To  be  sae  nice  wi'  Davie. 
Leeze  me  on  thy  curly  pow, 

Bonie  Davie,  dainty  Davie; 
Leeze  me  on  thy  curly  pow, 

Thou'se  ay  my  Dainty  Davie.' 


474  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Burns  obtained  the  rhythm  and  style  from  an  old  song  which  he  copied  into  the 
Merry  Muses.  The  chorus  there  is  almost  the  same  as  the  last  four  lines  above. 
Rantin  rovin  Robin  was  not  printed  in  the  poet's  lifetime,  nor  in  either  of  the 
musical  collections  with  which  he  was  identified.  John  Templeton,  a  tenor  of 
the  Italian  Opera,  and  Scottish  vocalist,  brought  the  song  into  public  notice ; 
but  instead  of  singing  it  to  the  tune  for  which  Burns  wrote  it,  he  selected  0,  an 
ye  were  dead,  gudeman  (see  No.  2^9),  to  which  it  is  almost  always  printed  and 
sung.  Burns,  in  discussing  the  tune  elsewhere,  particularly  states  that  the 
chorus  of  Dainty  Davie  is  to  be  sung  to  the  low  part  of  the  melody,  which  is 
in  Play  ford's  Dancing  Master,  1680,  293,  and  without  title  in  Sinkler's  MS., 
1710.  In  the  Tea- Table  Miscellany,  1724,  Allan  Ramsay's  song  Lucky  Nansy 
is  marked  for  the  tune. 

The  Rev.  David  Williamson,  who  died  in  1706,  is  always  stated  to  be  the 
original  Dainty  Davie,  but  that  is  very  doubtful,  and  perhaps  it  would  be 
more  correct  to  say  that  he  obtained  the  soubriquet  from  the  tune.  In 
Dr.  Pitcairn's  comedy  The  Assembly  he  is  represented  as  Solomon  Cherry- 
Trees,  and  in  the  bitter  and  indecent  pasquils  he  is  styled  Stout  David,  Sweet 
David,  Mr.  David,  and  sometimes  bare  Davie,  but  never  Dainty  Davie  except 
in  the  ballad  The  Cardinals  Coach  Coufid,  1710.  In  the  last  stanza  of  this 
ballad  in  Maidment's  New  Book  of  Old  Ballads  he  is  called  Dainty  Davie, 
but  curiously  enough  that  stanza  is  not  in  the  copy  hi  a  contemporary  manu- 
script by  the  Rev.  W.  Traill.  In  this  MS.  there  is  a  second  part  of  The 
CardinaVs  Coach  Coup*d  which  has  not  yet  been  reprinted.  The  connexion 
with  the  tune  seems  to  have  arisen  from  a  crazy  man  dancing  and  singing 
Dainty  Davie  on  the  road  while  Dr.  Williamson  one  Sunday  was  proceeding 
to  the  Church  in  Aberdeen.  The  incident  is  related  by  Wodrow.  The  song 
in  the  Merry  Muses  quoted  above  is  founded  on  the  unauthenticated  adventure 
related  by  Captain  Creighton  and  published  by  Dean  Swift — the  well-known 
chestnut  of  Mass  David  Williamson  who,  flying  from  his  persecutors  and  being 
pursued  by  dragoons,  took  refuge  in  the  bed  of  the  daughter  of  the  Laird  of 
Cherrytrees,  whom  he  afterwards  married.  He  was  a  Boanerges  of  the  Kirk  : 
he  married  and  buried  six  wives,  and  married  a  seventh  who  buried  him.  For 
a  fragment  in  the  Herd  MS.  see  Note,  No.  28;.  The  nationality  of  the  music 
is  disputed.  Chappell  claimed  it  as  English,  but  curiously  enough  did  not 
insert  it  in  his  collection,  although  it  is  conspicuously  a  good  melody.  It  has 
been  set  only  once  to  English  verses  that  I  know  of,  and  the  nationality  is 
there  settled  in  A  New  Song  made  to  a  pretty  Scotch  Tune  in  Durfey's  Pills, 
1719,  i.  42 ;  Dainty  Davie  is  also  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,32; 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1 753,  v.  22 ;  and  in  other  collections,  including 
the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1787,  No.  34.  I  understand  that  it  is  in  the  sixth 
edition  of  the  Dancing  Master,  and  again  in  the  edition  of  1701  and  also  in 
Sinkler's  MS.,  1710,  without  title. 

No.  309.  Is  there  for  honest  poverty  ?  A  Chap  book,  Stewart  and 
Meikle,  Glasgow,  1799.  Currie,  Works,  1800,  iv.  216,  entitled  For  a'  that  an* 
d  that.  Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1805,  163.  This  has  probably  won  more 
fame  for  Burns  beyond  the  seas  than  any  other  of  his  writings,  and  it  has  been 
translated  into  at  least  nine  different  European  languages.  At  the  time  it  was 
written  the  Continent  was  in  commotion ;  the  democratic  opinions  pervading 
France  had  extended  to  other  countries,  and  the  mute  masses  had  found 
a  voice.  The  vulgar  opinion  of  the  politics  of  Burns  is  far  from  the  truth  ;  he 
was  no  believer  in  universal  suffrage  nor  in  any  of  the  cant  of  the  party 
politician.  He  despised  all  mobs,  washed  or  unwashed.  He  held  the  same 
opinion  as  the  great  composer  Beethoven,  who,  when  challenged  as  to  his 
title  to  use  the  prefix  of  nobility  in  his  name,  declined  to  discuss  the  point,  but 
pointed  to  his  head  and  his  heart,  saying  •  these  are  my  titles  of  nobility.' 
The  song  was  sent  to  Thomson  in  a  letter,  January  I,  1795,  with  this  note: 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


475 


'  A  great  critic  ( Aikin)  on  songs  says,  that  love  and  wine  are  the  exclusive 
themes  for  song- writing.  This  is  on  neither  subject,  and  consequently  is  no 
song ;  but  will  be  allowed,  I  think,  to  be  two  or  three  pretty  good  prose 
thoughts  inverted  into  rhyme.'  He  resumes  the  subject  in  a  later  part  of  the 
same  letter :  '  I  do  not  give  you  the  foregoing  song  for  your  book,  but  merely 
by  way  of  vive  la  bagatelle  ;  for  the  piece  is  not  really  poetry.' 

The  tune  For  a'  that  an*  a*  that  has  been  continuously  popular  since  the 
middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.     In  Loyal  Songs,  1750.  there  is  a  Jacobite 
effusion  for  the  tune,  beginning  '  Though  Geordie  reign  in  Jamie's  stead,'  which 
is  reprinted  in  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  ii.  102.    The  chorus  is : — 
Tor  a'  that,  and  a'  that, 

And  thrice  as  muckle's  a'  that; 
He's  far  beyond  the  seas  the  night, 
Yet  he'll  be  here  for  a'  that.' 

In  the  Merry  Muses  is  a  broad  vernacular  beginning  : — 

'  Put  butter  in  my  Donald's  brose, 
For  weel  does  Donald  fa'  that; 
I  loe  my  Donald's  tartans  weel,'  &c. 

The  tune  is  a  close  adaptation  of  Lady  Macintosh'' s  Reel,  first  printed  in  1754, 
and  afterwards  in  Bremner's  Scots  Reels,  1 759,  52,  for  which  see  Song  No.  252. 
The  music  is  also  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 790,  No.  290,  and  Ritson's 
Scotish  Songs,  1794,  ii.  102.  In  Christie's  Traditional  Ballad  Airs,  1888, 
ii.  36,  is  a  set  to  a  traditional  Jacobite  song  He  wears  a  bonnet  for  a  hat, 
a  variation  of  that  in  Loyal  Songs  with  the  same  chorus.  Christie  states  that 
his  father  got  his  air  from  the  last  representative  of  three  generations  of  pipers 
called  Jaffray. 

No.  310.  I  dream'd  I  lay.  '  These  two  stanzas  I  composed  when  I  was 
seventeen  and  are  among  the  oldest  of  my  printed  pieces'  (Interleaved 
Musetim).  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  song  was  originally 
published,  and  signed  'X'  in  Johnson's  Museum,  1788,  No.  146,  with  the 
original  melody  as  in  the  text.  In  one  of  the  Gray  MSS.  it  appears  that  the 
tune  was  sent  to  Burns  entitled  One  night  I  dreamed  I  lay  most  easy,  and 
intended  to  be  set  to  the  words  of  another  song.  A  marginal  note  by  Johnson, 
the  proprietor  of  the  Museum  (who  like  Chaucer  could  not  spell !),  is  '  do  not 
loss  this,  as  I  have  not  a  nother  copy.  It  is  a  pritty  tune.  J.  J.'  Burns  drew 
his  pen  through  the  title,  and  inserted  the  first  line  of  his  own  song.  Accord- 
ingly, the  air  was  set  to  his  verses  /  dreamed  I  lay.  The  discarded  song 
described  by  Burns  as  the  second  set  of  the  Young  man's  dream,  and  written  by 
an  eccentric  genius  known  as  Balloon  Tytler,  was  printed  in  the  same  volume 
of  the  Mttseum  with  a  remodelled  set  of  the  tune.  Burns's  verses  with  the  tune 
were  reprinted  in  Napier's  Scots  Songs,  1792,  ii.  88.  Tom  Moore  adapted  the 
music  for  his  song  '  As  a  beam  o'er  the  face  of  the  waters.' 

No.  311.  Farewell,  ye  dungeons  dark  and  strong.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  114,  signed  '  Z,'  tune  Mc  Pherson  s  farewell.  The  MS.  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  No  country  in  Europe  has  more  increased  in  wealth 
during  the  last  hundred  and  fifty  years  than  Scotland.  Four  years  prior  to  the 
time  at  which  the  original  of  McPherson's  farewell  is  supposed  to  have  beeu 
written — that  is  1705 — Scotland  was  so  poor  that  the  Government  could  not 
pay  a  Parliamentary  grant  of  £400  Scots  to  James  Anderson  for  writing  an 
'  Historical  Essay  showing  that  the  Crown  and  Kingdom  of  Scotland  is  Imperial 
and  Independent,'  Edinburgh  1705,  in  answer  to  Dr.  Drake's  offensive  Historia 
Anglo-Scotica  which  the  Parliament  ordered  to  be  burnt  by  the  public  hangman. 
Except  between  two  or  three  of  the  principal  towns  in  the  Lowlands,  there 
were  no  roads  ;  that  to  Inverness  for  example  being  simply  a  footpath  scarcely 
much  better  than  those  winding  through  Central  Africa  at  the  present  day. 


476 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  story  of  James  McPherson  indicates  the  lawlessness  and  disorder  at  the 
time  in  the  Highlands.  He  was  the  leader  of  one  of  the  gangs  of  cattle-lifters 
which  roamed  over  the  Province  of  Moray,  helping  themselves  to  all  the  move- 
ables  they  wanted.  They  were  armed  with  matchlocks  slung  behind,  and  broad 
swords,  or  dirks  by  their  sides,  and  visited  fairs  to  discover  who  received  money 
or  goods,  in  order  to  waylay  and  despoil  them.  M°Pherson  was  a  tall,  hand- 
some, powerful  man,  the  son  of  a  gentleman  by  a  gipsy  mother.  His  lineage 
and  ability  raised  him  to  authority  over  his  associates.  He  wore  an  enormous 
sword  which  at  the  time  was  almost  out  of  date,  and  which  in  his  hands  was  a 
formidable  weapon  of  offence  and  defence.  One  of  the  Highland  Chiefs— Duff 
of  Braco — was  conspicuously  active  in  trying  to  root  out  the  depredators,  and 
put  an  end  to  brigandage  ;  while  on  the  other  hand,  the  Laird  of  Grant 
protected  the  marauders,  and  undertook  their  defence.  At  the  Keith  fair,  Duff 
and  his  assistants  tried  to  seize  the  raiders,  but  they  made  a  desperate  resistance 
and  Duff  had  a  narrow  escape  with  his  life.  McPherson  and  Peter  Brown — 
the  two  leaders — were  caught  and  locked  up  with  a  sentry  over  them.  The 
Laird  of  Grant  came  to  the  rescue,  and  released  the  men,  but  shortly  afterwards 
they  were  retaken,  and  on  November  7,  1700,  James  McPherson,  two  Browns, 
and  a  Gordon  were  brought  before  the  Sheriff  of  Banffshire  charged  with  being 
1  Egyptian  rogues  and  vagabonds,  of  keeping  the  markets  in  their  ordinary 
manner  of  thieving  and  purse-cutting,  also,  being  guilty  of  masterful  bangstrie 
and  oppression.'  Grant,  with  much  legal  acumen,  applied  to  have  the  Browns 
tried  in  the  Court  of  his  own  regality,  as  they  lived  within  his  bounds,  and 
offering  Culreach  or  pledge  for  their  appearance,  but  the  application  was 
refused.  The  evidence  against  the  prisoners  was  complete  ;  they  had  stolen 
sheep,  oxen  and  horses ;  they  had  robbed  many  men  of  their  purses,  tyrannously 
oppressed  poor  people,  and  they  spoke  a  peculiar  gipsy  language.  They  also 
spent  their  nights  in  dancing,  and  singing,  and  debauchery — McPherson  him- 
self being  the  minstrel  at  these  feasts.  Gordon  and  he  were  found  guilty,  and 
sentenced  to  be  hung  at  the  Market  Cross  next  market-day.  McPherson 
spent  his  last  hours  writing  verses  and  composing  a  tune  for  them,  and  as  he 
walked  from  prison  to  the  place  of  execution,  he  played  his  tune  on  the  violin. 
At  the  gallows  he  offered  his  instrument  to  any  one  who  would  accept  it,  but 
upon  every  one  declining  it,  he  broke  it  over  his  knee  and  threw  the  pieces 
among  the  crowd.  His  two-handed  sword  and  target  were  taken  from  him  by 
Duff  at  the  time  of  arrest,  and  are  now  in  the  possession  of  the  latter's  family. 
McPherson  was  buried  at  the  place  of  execution,  and  a  considerable  time 
afterwards  his  bones,  proving  him  to  have  been  a  tall  powerful  man,  were 
found  at  the  gallows  hill.  The  sword  is  six  feet  long,  including  a  handle  of 
eighteen  inches,  and  the  blade  is  two  and  a  half  inches  broad.  Such  are  some 
of  the  particulars — partly  fact  and  mostly  fiction — of  the  notorious  freebooter, 
whom  Burns  has  immortalized  in  '  a  wild  stormful  song,  that  dwells  in  our  ear 
with  a  strange  tenacity.'  The  process  against  M°Pherson  is  given  in  Spalding's 
Miscellany,  iii.  ijj. 

The  original  ballad  from  which  Burns  modelled  his  song  was  printed  shortly 
after  the  events  to  which  they  refer,  in  a  broadside  entitled  McPhersons 
Rant  /  or  the  last  words  of  James  McPherson,  murderer.  To  its  own  proper 
tune.  The  verses  are  a  good  deal  above  the  general  level  of  the  ordinary 
street  ballad,  and  consist  of  eleven  eight-line  stanzas  in  vigorous  language  of 
somewhat  inferior  rhyme.  The  first  stanza  is  as  follows : — 


'  I  spent  my  time  in  rioting, 

Debauch'd  my  health  and  strength ; 
I  pillag'd,  plunder'd,  murdered, 

But  now,  alas !  at  length 


I'm  brought  to  punishment  condign  ; 

Pale  death  draws  near  to  me, 
The  end  I  never  did  project 

To  die  upon  a  tree.' 


An  incomplete  copy  is  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769,  264  :  a  complete  version  is 
in  Maidment's  Scotish  Songs  and  Ballads,  1859,  .29,  with  the  title  above  quoted. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


477 


On  comparing  the  song  in  the  text  with  the  original  ballad,  it  will  be  seen 
where  Burns  excels.  He  depicts  the  audacity  of  McPherson  in  vigorous 
nervous  language,  he  puts  no  apologies  into  his  mouth,  but  paints  him  as  an 
enemy  to  society,  hardened  and  revengeful  to  the  end,  disdaining  to  be  a 
coward,  and  dying  like  a  man.  Of  these  verses  Carlyle  says :  '  but  who 
except  Burns,  could  have  given  words  to  such  a  soul,  words  that  we  never 
listen  to  without  a  strange  barbarous,  half  poetic  feeling.'  The  song  rriade 
a  very  strong  impression  on  Carlyle,  for  many  years  after  he  wrote  to  Edward 
Fitzgerald  :  '  One  day  we  had  Alfred  Tennyson  here ;  an  unforgettable  day. 
He  stayed  with  us  till  late,  we  dismissed  him  with  McPhersons  farewell. 
Alfred's  face  grew  darker  and  darker  and  I  saw  his  lips  slightly  quivering.' 

The  tune  is  in  Sinkler'sMS.  1710,  as  M^Farsence's  Testament ;  in  the  Caledo- 
nian Pocket  Companion,  c.  1755,  vii.  14  ;  and  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768, 
92,  it  is  entitled  McPhersoris  farewell,  as  in  later  publications. 

No.  312.  O,  raging  fortune's  withering  blast.  Commonplace  Book ;  and 
published  in  Cromek's  R cliques,  i8o8,^y.  This  apparently  refers  to  the  family 
misfortunes  at  the  farm  of  Lochlea.  Burns  at  this  time  tried  to  compose  a  melody 
for  these  verses — the  only  attempt  of  the  kind  he  made — and  remarks :  '  'Twas 
at  this  time  I  set  about  composing  an  air  in  the  old  Scotch  style.  I  am  not 
musical  scholar  enough  to  prick  down  my  tune  properly,  so  it  can  never  see  the 
light,  and  perhaps  'tis  no  great  matter.  The  tune  consisted  of  three  parts  so 
that  the  verses  just  went  through  the  whole  air'  (Commonplace  Book).  The 
tune  here  referred  to  has  never  been  seen  and  was  probably  destroyed. 

No.  313.  The  gloomy  night  is  gathering  fast.  Edinburgh  Edition, 
1787,^0.  Tune  Roslin  Castle.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  284; 
Thomson's  Scotish  Airs,  1799,  Sj.  '  I  had  taken  the  last  farewell  of  my  few 
friends  ;  my  chest  was  on  the  road  to  Greenock  ;  I  had  composed  the  last  song 
I  should  ever  measure  in  Caledonia  'The  gloomy  night  is  gathering  fast/ 
(Letter  to  Dr.  Moore.)  A  somewhat  similar  note  is  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  but 
the  leaf  in  the  Interleaved  Musetim  from  which  Cromek  is  supposed  to  have 
taken  the  note  is  now  missing.  Further  details  are  given  by  Dr.  Walker,  who 
had  them  from  Burns  himself.  The  poet  had  left  Dr.  Lawrie's  house  at 
Newmilns  after  a  visit  which  he  expected  to  be  the  last ;  to  reach  his  home  he 
had  to  traverse  a  stretch  of  solitary  moor  some  miles  long,  across  the  parish 
of  Galston.  The  night  was  lowering  and  dark,  cold  showers  came  and  went, 
the  wind  whistled  through  the  rushes  and  long  grass.  The  elements  were  in 
keeping  with  the  poet's  frame  of  mind,  and  in  discomfort  of  body  and  cheerless- 
ness  of  spirit  this  splendid  effusion  was  projected.  The  visit  to  Dr.  Lawrie's 
took  place  about  the  close  of  September,  1786.  At  this  or  some  other  time 
Burns  presented  the  following  fragment  to  one  of  the  daughters.  The  castle 
referred  to  is  Newmilns,  and  the  river  is  the  Irvine. 


'  The  night  was  still,  and  o'er  the  hill 
The  moon  shone  on  the  Castle  wa' ; 

The  mavis  sang,  while  dewdrops  hang 
Around  her  in  the  Castle  wa' ; 


Sae  merrily  they  danc'd  the  ring 
Frae  e'enin  till  the  cock  did  craw, 

And  ay  the  o'erword  o'  the  spring 
Was : — "  Irvine's  bairns  are  bonie  a" ! ' 


In  neither  of  the  musical  collections  above  named  was  the  proper  tune  printed 
with  The  Gloomy  night  is  gat h* ring  fast,  and  in  the  Mttseum  it  is  set  to  a 
worthless  melody  composed  by  Allan  Masterton.  In  Scotish  Airs  the  tune  is 
Druimionn  dubh  (see  Song  No.  32)  which  Thomson  names  Farewell  to  Ayr.  So 
far  as  I  know  the  proper  tune,  Roslin  Castle,  has  never  been  printed  with  this 
song.  It  is  one  of  the  best  double  tunes  in  Scottish  collections,  and  admirably 
suited  to  express  the  poetry  of  Burns.  It  was  first  printed  in  McGibbon's  Scots 
Ttines,  1746,^7,  with  the  title  House  of  Glams,  and  as  Roslin  Castle  in  the 
Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  j.  The  first  time  it  is  set  to  words  is 
in  Bremner's  Scots  Songs  (2nd  series)  1757,  27,  with  Hewitt's  song  beginning 


478 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


'  Twas  in  that  season  of  the  year '  and  another  '  From  Roslin  castle's  echoing 
walls,'  and  the  change  of  title  of  the  tune  is  probably  due  to  one  or  other  of 
these  songs.  The  reason  why  Burns's  verses  were  set  to  another  than  the  proper 
tune  in  Johnson's  Museum  was  because  Hewitt's  Roslin  Castle  had  been  printed 
with  other  words  in  an  earlier  volume. 

No.  314.  Having  winds  around  her  blowing.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  ijj,  signed  '  B.'  Tune,  McGrigor  of  Rords  lament.  '  I  composed 
these  verses  on  Miss  Isabella  McLeod  of  Raza,  alluding  to  her  feelings  on  the 
death  of  her  sister,  and  the  still  more  melancholy  death  of  her  sister's  husband, 
the  late  Earl  of  Loudon,  who  shot  himself,  out  of  sheer  heart-break  at  some 
mortifications  he  suffered,  owing  to  the  deranged  state  of  his  finances '  (Inter- 
leaved Museum).  Miss  Isabella  M°Leod  was  one  of  the  first  friends  Burns  made 
in  Edinburgh,  and  he  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  her  while  he  remained 
there.  She  was  a  sweet  and  gentle  woman,  one  of  the  refined  persons  who 
smoothed  the  rebellious  nature  of  the  poet.  Dr.  Johnson  in  his  tour  in  the 
Hebrides,  stayed  with  the  family  at  Raasay  and  unexpectedly  was  charmed  with 
the  society.  The  family  consisted  of  three  sons  and  ten  daughters,  the  eldest 
Flora,  described  as  Queen  of  the  ball,  was  elegant  and  remarkable  for  her  beauty. 
The  McLeods  were  singularly  unfortunate.  Flora  became  the  beautiful 
Countess  of  Loudon,  and  died  in  1780,  her  husband  the  Earl  shot  himself  in 
1786,  the  father  died  the  same  year  and  his  brother  John  in  1787.  The  chief 
of  Raasay,  the  brother  of  Burns's  friend,  died  in  1801,  in  financial  trouble  ;  his 
son  and  grandson  struggled  unsuccessfully  to  redeem  the  estates,  which  had 
been  in  the  family  for  four  hundred  years.  Burns  commemorated  John's  death 
in  the  lines  beginning  '  Sad  thy  tale,  thou  rueful  page.'  A  song  by  Gay  printed 
in  The  Hive,  1726,  274,  and  elsewhere,  begins  thus: — 

'Twas  when  the  seas  were  roaring, 

With  hollow  blasts  of  wind, 
A  damsel  lay  deploring 

All  on  a  rock  reclin'd.' 

There  is  no  other  suggestion  for  Burns  in  the  song.  The  tune  is  an  exquisite 
Celtic  air  which  he  heard  during  his  Highland  tour.  In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop 
he  describes  how  the  Coronach  of  McGrigor  of  Rora  was  much  admired  in 
Patrick  Miller's  house  while  he  was  there. 

McGrigors  lament  is  in  Corri's  Scots  Songs,  1783,  ii.  29  ;  as  a  Perthshire  air 
in  M°Donald's  Highland  Airs,  1784,  No.  88;  and  in  the  Museum  as  now 
printed.  There  is  a  bad  setting  in  Dow's  Scots  Music,  c.  1 776,  16. 

No.  315.  "What  will  I  do  gin  my  hoggie  die  ?  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  No.  ijj.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum  with  an  instruction  that 
'  the  music  to  be  set  to  those  words.'  A  '  hog '  or  '  hoggie  '  is  a  young  sheep 
which  has  not  yet  passed  beneath  the  knife  of  the  shearer.  After  the  first 
fleece  is  taken  off,  the  '  hoggie '  becomes  a  gimmer  or  tup  until  the  next  fleece. 
The  original  of  Burns's  verses  is  said  to  be  a  song  entitled  Coxton's  hoggie  in 
four  stanzas  which  Buchan,  a  most  untrustworthy  authority,  furnished  to 
Motherwell  and  published  first  in  1834.  There  is  nothing  of  the  antique  in  the 
verses,  and  they  may  be  discredited.  Burns  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  acknow- 
ledge his  verses  in  his  Interleaved  Museum  which  however  contains  a  note  by 
Robert  Riddell  garbled  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808, 241,  to  make  it  appear  that 
Burns  wrote  it.  If  Cromek  had  printed  a  verbatim  copy  beginning  in  the  first 
person  the  public  would  have  discovered  that  there  was  something  wrong  in 
Burns  being  acquainted  with  Dr.  Walker  so  early  as  the  year  1772. 

The  tune,  with  the  title  of  Burns  What  will  I  do  gin  my  hoggie  die,  is  in 
McGlashan's  Scots  Measures,  1781,  //,  and  in  Reinagle's  Scots  Airs,  c.  1782, 
entitled  Moss  Platt,  the  name  of  the  hamlet  referred  to  in  Ridclell's  note.  The 
Museum  copy  with  Burns's  verses  is  a  bad  setting  of  the  air,  which  Mr.  Glen 
discovered  in  Young's  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  c.  1727,  under  the  unintelligible 
title  of  Cocks  lonns  walie  hoyn. 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


479 


No.  316.  It  was  in  sweet  Senegal.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No. 
384,  entitled  The  slave's  lament.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Accord- 
ing to  Stenhouse,  Burns  communicated  the  tune  with  the  verses,  which  Sharpe 
believed  to  be  a  make-up  from  a  street  ballad  entitled  The  betrayed  maid, 
popular  in  the  West  of  Scotland  in  the  eighteenth  century,  through  its  over- 
flowing sentiment.  The  original  is  a  black  letter  broadside  entitled  The 
trefan1  d  maiden,  or  the  distressed  damsel,  beginning  : — 

'  Give  ear  unto  a  maid 
That  lately  was  betrayed 
And  sent  into  Virginny  O ' :  &c. 

Stenhouse  circulated  the  story  that  the  tune  is  of  African  origin.  The  Seven 
Dials  is  more  likely  to  have  been  its  birthplace.  It  is  sentimental  but  by  no 
means  a  bad  tune,  and  is  as  well  worth  reprinting  as  the  verses  it  illustrates. 

No.  317.  One  night  as  I  did  wander.  This  '  fragment '  is  in  the  Glen- 
riddell  MS.  which  Burns  sent  to  one  of  his  friends  as  a  copy  of  his  Commonplace 
Book.  But  the  stanza  is  not  in  the  Jatter  collection ,  and  nothing  is  known  as  to 
the  origin  or  object  of  the  verses.  Published  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808, 341, 
tune,  John  Anderson  my  jo.  See  No.  212. 

No.  318.  The  lazy  mist  hangs  from  the  brow  of  the  hill.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  I79°>  No.  232,  signed  *B' ;  entitled  The  lazy  mist.  In  Thomson's 
Scotish  Airs,  1798,^0,  with  an  unauthorized  air.  In  the  Interleaved  Museum 
Burns  states  '  This  song  is  mine/  and  in  Law's  MS.  List — '  Mr  Burns's  words.' 
The  verses  are  another  example  of  the  depressing  effect  of  Autumn  on  the  poet's 
mind.  He  sent  a  copy,  on  November  15,  1788,  to  Dr.  Blacklock,  to  whom 
he  describes  it  as  a  'melancholy'  thing,  and  is  afraid  lest  it  should  too  well  suit 
the  tone  of  the  doctor's  feelings. 

The  Irish  tune,  7"he  lazy  mist,  was  printed  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Com- 
panion, c.  1759,  xii.  20.  The  subject  of  the  melody  is  attractive,  but  it  becomes 
monotonous  from  continued  repetition  of  one  of  the  phrases. 

No.  319.  Ken  ye  ought  o'  Captain  Grose?  In  Currie's  Works,  1800, 
iv.  399.  '  Tune,  Sir  John  Malcolm.'  Also  in  the  Glenriddell  MS.  In  the 
autumn  of  1 790,  Captain  Grose  the  Antiquarian  visited  the  South  of  Scotland 
to  inspect  the  ancient  ruins  there  for  the  purpose  of  describing  them.  Burns 
found  him  a  witty  and  sympathetic  companion,  and  refers  to  him  in  the  poem 
beginning : — 

'  Hear,  Land  o'  Cakes,  and  brither  Scots, 
Frae  Maidenkirk  to  Johnie  Groat's ; 
If  there 's  a  hole  in  a'  your  coats, 

I  rede  ye  tent  it : 

A  chield's  amang  you  takin  notes, 
And  faith  he'll  prent  it : ' 

Burns  wrote  to  Grose — then  in  Edinburgh — informing  him  that  Professor  Dugald 
Stewart  wished  to  be  introduced  to  him,  and  requesting  him  to  call  at  Sorn 
Castle — where  Stewart  lived — when  he  returned  to  the  South.  As  Burns  did 
not  know  the  address,  the  rhyme  was  sent  to  Cardonnell,  another  Antiquarian, 
requesting  him  to  forward  the  letter.  The  song  is  a  parody  on  Sir  John  Malcolm 
to  be  found  in  The  Charmer,  1764,  ii.  271,  and  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs,  1769, 182. 
This  undistinguished  Knight  and  his  friend  Sandie  Don,  were  two  dull  prosy 
blockheads,  who  bored  their  friends  in  company  with  pointless  incoherent 
stories  of  their  travels.  The  old  song  begins : — 

'  Keep  ye  weel  frae  Sir  John  Malcolm,  Igo  and  Ago, 
If  he's  a  wise  man,  I  mistak  him,  Iram,  Coram,  dago, 
Keep  ye  weel  frae  Sandy  Don,  Igo  and  ago, 
He's  ten  times  dafter  than  Sir  John,  Irani,  Coram,  dago? 


480 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


The  tune  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country  Dances,  c.  1741,  is  entitled  Allister\ 
it  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1761,  96 ;  and  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  jp/.  This 
is  the  first  time  that  this  song  of  Burns  has  been  printed  with  its  melody. 

No.  320.  O,  leeze  me  on  my  spinnin-wheel.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  }6o,  entitled  Bess  and  her  spinning  wheel.  The  MS.  of  this  ideal 
rustic  song  is  in  the  British  Museum.  The  description  of  the  little  islet  is 
charming  with  the  scented  birk  and  white  hawthorn  uniting  the  two  branches 
of  the  stream  across  the  pool.  Ramsay's  copy  of  the  English  song  As  I  sat  by 
my  spinning  wheel  in  the  Tea- Table  Miscellany,  1725,  has  not  even  a  distant 
resemblance  to  the  song  of  Burns. 

The  characteristic  melody  Sweeps  the  lass  that  loves  me  is  in  Playford's 
Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1 700,  entitled  Cosen  Coles  delight,  and  in  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.  10,  but  its  extended  compass  has  marred  its 
popularity.  Martin  Parker,  the  London  ballad  writer,  wrote  Loves  Solace  to 
a  new  Court  Tune,  or,  as  in  some  later  copies,  '  Sweet  is  the  lass  that  loves  me ; 
a  young  man's  resolution  to  prove  constant  to  his  sweetheart/  to  the  tune 
Omnia  vincit  Amor  which  does  not  resemble  the  present  tune. 

No.  321.  Cauld  blaws  the  wind  frae  east  to  west.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1788,  No.  140,  signed  'Z.'  With  tune  Up  in  the  morning  early, 
otherwise,  Cold  and  raw.  'The  chorus  of  this  is  old,  the  two  stanzas  are 
mine*  (Interleaved  Museum}.  None  of  the  Scottish  collections  contain  any 
such  song.  Burns's  model  is  in  the  Herd  MS.,  but  the  subject  there  is  entirely 
different.  The  following  notes  will  enable  the  reader  to  form  his  own  opinion 
as  to  the  origin  of  both  the  poetry  and  the  music.  The  anecdote  related  by 
Sir  John  Hawkins  in  his  History  of  Music,  1776,  has  been  often  repeated. 
In  the  year  1691  the  Queen  asked  Mrs.  Hunt  to  sing  'the  old  Scots  ballad* 
Cold  and  Raw,  which  she  did,  accompanying  herself  on  the  lute.  '  For  the 
Queen's  next  birthday  song  Purcell  composed,  in  1692,  an  air  to  the  words,  May 
her  bright  example  in  the  Orpheus  Brit annicus,  1702,  ii.  zji,  the  base  whereof 
is  the  tune  Cold  and  Raw?  The  statement  of  the  historian  so  far  as  it  goes 
is  quite  explicit.  Hawkins  repeats  the  anecdote  in  the  light  of  a  tradition,  and 
cites  no  authority,  but  he  quite  confidently  asserts  the  Scots  nationality  of 
the  air. 

Now  for  some  facts :  the  tune  was  printed  under  the  title  of  Stingo,  or  the 
Oyl  of  Barley  in  the  first  edition  of  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  London,  1 65 1 , 
and  in  every  subsequent  edition  up  to  the  eighth  published  in  1690.  The 
following  is  a  copy  from  the  fourth  edition,  1670,  84. 

Stingo,  or  the  Oyl  of  Barley. 


It  was  printed  in  Hilton's  Catch  that  catch  can,  1652,  as  the  third  part  of 
a  Northern  Catch  entitled  Ise  go  with  ye,  my  sweet  Peggy,  the  last  two  lines 
of  which  are  : — 

'  We'll  sport  all  night  for  our  delight, 
And  go  home  in  the  morning  early.' 


MISCELLANEOUS 


481 


In  Merry  Drollery,  1661,  132  the  song  is  entitled  A  cup  of  old  stingo,  and 
closes  with 

'  Let 's  drink  the  barrel  to  the  dregs 
For  the  Mault-man  comes  a  Munday.' 

In  the  ninth  edition  of  the  Dancing  Master,  1695,  the  title  of  the  tune  was 
altered  from  Stingo  to  Cold  and  raw,  by  which  it  has  since  been  known.  The 
date  of  the  change  approximates  to  that  of  the  anecdote  of  Hawkins,  and 
the  song  performed  by  Mrs.  Hunt  was  probably  A  new  Scotch  Song,  which 
first  appeared  in  Come  Amoris,  or  the  companion  of  Love,  1688,  and  became  so 
popular  that  the  old  title  of  the  tune  was  abandoned  for  Cold  and  raw. 
According  to  Chappell  (Popular  Music,  page  306),  this  new  Scotch  song  was 
written  by  Tom  Durfey.  The  following  first  stanza  is  taken  from  Pills  to  purge 
melancholy,  1719,  ii.  i6j : — 


Cold  and  raw  the  North  did  blow, 
Bleak  in  the  morning  early ; 

All  the  trees  were  hid  in  snow, 
Dagl'd  by  winter  yearly : 


When  come  riding  over  a  knough, 
I  met  with  a  farmer's  daughter; 

Rosie  cheeks  and  bonny  brow, 
Good  faith  made  my  mouth  to  water. 


It  may  be  remarked  that  the  next  following  song  in  Durfey  is  entitled  '  A  new 
Song  to  the  Scotch  tune  of  Cold  and  Raw?  In  a  Collection  of  old  Ballads, 
1723 — the  first  of  its  kind  in  England — the  song  is  reprinted  with  the  title  The 
Northern  Ditty  ;  or  the  Scotchman  outwitted.  In  a  note,  the  ballad  is  said  to 
be  traditionally  assigned  to  the  time  of  James  I  of  England,  which  controverts 
the  statement  of  Chappell. 

The  tune  Stingo  in  the  seventeenth  century  was  also  known  as  The  country 
lass,  .and  numerous  ballads  were  written  for  the  music  and  printed  as  broadsides. 

The  famous  revolutionary  song  of  1688 — Lilliburlero—vfa.s  first  printed  to 
be  sung  to  Cold  and  raw,  but  it  had  to  give  place  very  quickly  to  the  tune  now 
associated  with  it. 

So  much  for  the  English  source.  The  earliest  record  of  the  tune  I  can  find 
in  Scotland  is  in  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1755,  /7,  with  the  title  Up  in  the 
morning  early,  from  which  it  may  be  inferred  that  it  was  then  known  and  sung 
to  verses  in  Herd  MS.,  the  chorus  of  which  is  : — 

'Up  i1  the  morning,  up  i'  the  morning 

Up  i'  the  morning  early, 
Up  i'  the  morning  's  no  for  me 
And  I  canna  get  up  so  early.' 

The  music  is  also  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  xii.  /,  with  the  same 
title  as  in  McGibbon.  No  such  song  is  named  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany, 
nor  in  any  printed  Scottish  song-book  of  the  eighteenth  century.  This  melody 
is  an  example  of  the  difficulty  of  ascertaining  the  origin  of  folk  music.  Chappell's 
test  was  a  very  simple  one  and  suited  his  purpose  exactly.  Where  the  earliest 
record  of  the  music  was  found  there  was  the  origin.  He  rejected  all  circum- 
stantial evidence,  and  in  this  way  practically  excluded  all  Scottish  tune  prior 
to  the  year  1700 — the  date  of  the  first  printed  collection  of  Scottish  music. 
The  many  references  to  the  peculiarity  of  Scottish  music  by  Shakespeare,  Dryden, 
Pepys,  and  other  writers  of  the  seventeenth  century  counted  for  nothing,  and  the 
inrush  of  Scottish  tunes  into  England  in  the  wake  of  James  I  was  disregarded. 
As  early  as  1688  the  tune  Cold  and  raw  was  designated  a  Northern  or  Scotch 
tune,  and  by  the  Queen,  in  1691,  as  an  old  Scottish  Ballad,  yet  the  music  was 
not  printed  in  Scotland  before  1755  nor  the  words  before  Burns. 

No.  322.  No  cold  approach,  no  alter'd  mien.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  340.  MS.  in  which  Burns  directs  how  the  music  is  to  be  set  is  in 
the  British  Museum.  Further  information  is  as  follows :  '  This  song  composed 
by  a  Miss  Cranstoun.  It  wanted  four  lines  to  make  all  the  stanzas  suit  the 

ii 


482 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


music,  which  I  added,  and  are  the  four  first  of  the  last  stanza.'     {Interleaved 
Museum.} 

Miss  Cranstoun  became  the  wife  of  Professor  Dtigald  Stewart  the  friend  of 
Burns.  She  was  born  in  1765,  married  in  1790,  and  died  at  Warriston  House 
near  Edinburgh  on  July  28,  1838.  At  the  bottom  of  the  MS.  for  the  Museum 
Burns  expressed  a  wish  that  the  song  should  appear  in  the  next  volume. 

The  tune  is  the  work  of  John  Barrett,  an  English  musician,  the  composer  of 
many  songs,  and  a  pupil  of  Dr.  Blow,  the  celebrated  organist.  lanthe  the  lovely 
is  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1719,  v.  joo.  Gay  used  the  tune  in  The  Beggar's  Opera. 
It  is  also  in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1752,  iv.  8,  and  a  much  corrupted 
setting  is  in  the  Musical  Miscellany,  Perth,  1786,  112. 

No.  323.  My  father  was  a  farmer.  Commonplace  Book,  1872,  zj.  Tune, 
The  -weaver  and  his  shuttle,  0,  and  described  as  '  a  wild  rhapsody  miserably 
deficient  in  versification.'  Published  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1808,  330.  On 
February  13,  1784,  the  worthy  father  of  the  poet  died.  For  three  years  he  had 
been  at  law  with  his  landlord  over  the  terms  of  the  lease  of  the  farm  of  Lochlea 
and  '  was  saved  from  the  horrors  of  a  jail  by  a  consumption  which,  after  two 
years'  promises,  kindly  stept  in,  and  carried  him  away  to  where  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling  and  where  the  weary  are  at  rest.'  (Letter  to  Dr.  Moore.} 

In  a  note  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  1 805,  205,  it  is  stated  that  the  tune  The  weaver 
and  his  shuttle,  0  is  the  Irish  title  of  Jockie 's  gray  breeks ;  but  there  is  no  such 
note  in  Burns's  Interleaved  Museum  as  represented.  For  the  same  tune  under 
a  different  title,  see  No.  67. 

No.  324.  "When  chill  November's  surly  blast.  Commonplace  Book, 
1872,  42,  entitled  A  Song.  Tune,  Peggy  Bawn.  Printed  in  the  Kilmarnock 
edition,  1786,  160,  entitled  Man  was  made  to  mourn.  A  dirge.  Later,  he 
refers  to  its  source  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Dunlop  dated  August  16,  1788.  He  was 
then  in  the  same  depressed  mental  state  as  when  he  wrote  the  verses.  '  If 
I  thought  you  had  never  seen  it,  I  would  transcribe  for  you  a  stanza  of  an  old 
Scottish  ballad  called  The  life  and  age  of  man,  beginning 

'"Twas  in  the  sixteen  hunder  year 

Of  God,  and  fifty  three, 
Frae  Christ  was  born,  that  bought  us  dear 
As  writings  testifie." 

I  had  a  grand-uncle,  with  whom  my  mother  lived  awhile  in  her  girlish  years : 
the  good  old  man,  for  such  he  was,  was  long  blind  ere  he  died  ;  during  which 


time  his  highest  enjoyment  was  to  sit  down  and  cry,  while  my  mother  would 
sing  the  simple  old  song  of  The  life  and  age  of  man?  Cromek  inserted  this  old 
ballad — very  poor  stuff,  which  he  obtained  from  the  recital  of  Burns's  mother — 
in  the  preface  to  Scotish  songs,  1810.  According  to  a  stall-copy  the  full 
title  is '  The  life  and  age  of  Man :  or  a  short  description  of  his  Nature,  Rise,  and 
Fall,  according  to  the  tivelve  months  of  the  year.  Tune,  Isle  of  Kell?  The 
year  1653 — when  the  ballad  was  written — was  a  sorry  time  for  Scotland,  and 
at  no  period  since  Edward  I  had  the  independence  of  the  country  been  more 
menaced.  The  General  Assembly  had  met,  and  were  discussing  much  con- 
troversial matter,  when  a  general  of  Cromwell's  army  entered,  and  ordered  the 
Assembly  to  dissolve  and  the  members  to  follow  him.  '  Broad-based  '  Baillie 
the  Covenanter  describes  this  unheard  of  atrocity,  and  how  the  ministers  and 
elders  were  conducted  a  mile  out  of  the  town,  and  forbidden  to  meet  more  than 
three  in  number,  under  pain  of  imprisonment.  English  Commissioners  were 
appointed  to  administer  public  business,  and  the  country  for  a  short  time  was 
entirely  under  English  control. 

In  his  Man  was  made  to  mourn,  Burns  made  use  of  the  old  ballad,  a  variant 
of  which  was  known  in  England.  A  black  letter  imprint,  issued  from  London 
about  1666,  is  entitled  *  The  age  and  life  of  man,  perfectly  showing  his  beginning 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  483 

of  Life  and  the  progress  of  his  Dayes  from  Seaven  to  Seaventy.  To  the  tune  of 
Jane  Shore?  known  to  Shakespeare  as  Live  with  me  for  Marlowe's  delightful 
song  Come  live  with  me  and  be  my  love. 

Peggy  Bawn,  for  which  Burns  marked  his  ballad,  is  an  Irish  melody.  It  is 
written  throughout  in  the  major  mode,  and  not  in  the  minor  as  might  be 
expected  from  the  character  of  the  verses  it  interprets.  It  was  very  popular  in 
Burns's  time,  but  in  many  musical  collections  of  the  period,  and  subsequently,  it 
is  disfigured  by  tasteless  adornments.  The  present  copy  is  from  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  No.  joy.  7%<?  Isle  of  Kell,  the  tune  of  Burns's  original 
ballad,  is  also  known  as  Hardy  Knute.  In  the  Pepysian  Library  is  a  black  letter 
ballad — a  Scottish  version  of  the  Hunting  of  Chevy  Chase— directed  to  be  sung 
to  The  Isle  of  Kyle.  The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  music  from  the  Caledonian 
Pocket  Companion,  1753,  v.ji. 

tr 


tr 


;jE=^^-f=£jtd=^F^fe^-ffiN 


No.  325.  The  wintry  -west  extends  his  blast.  Commonplace  Book, 
1872,  12,  entitled  Song.  Tune,  McPherson's  farewell,  with  the  following 
note :  '  I  have  various  sources  of  pleasure  and  enjoyment  which  are,  in  a 
manner,  peculiar  to  myself,  or  some  here  and  there  such  other  out-of-the-way 
person.  Such  is  the  peculiar  pleasure  I  take  in  the  season  of  winter,  more 
than  the  rest  of  the  year.  This,  I  believe,  may  be  partly  owing  to  my 
misfortunes  giving  my  mind  a  melancholy  cast ;  but  there  is  something  even 
in  the 

"Mighty  tempest  and  the  hoary  waste 
Abrupt  and  deep,  stretch'd  o'er  the  buried  earth" 

which  raises  the  mind  to  a  serious  sublimity,  favourable  to  everything  great 
and  noble.  There  is  scarcely  any  earthly  object  gives  me  more — I  don't  know 
if  I  should  call  it  pleasure,  but  something  which  exalts  me,  something  which 
enraptures  me — than  to  walk  in  the  sheltered  side  of  a  wood,  or  high  planta- 
tion, in  a  cloudy,  winter  day,  and  hear  a  stormy  wind  howling  among  the  trees, 
and  raving  o'er  the  plain.  ...  In  one  of  these  seasons  just  after  a  tract  of  mis- 
fortunes, I  composed  The  wintry  wind  extends  his  blast."1  The  tune  M°Pher- 
son's  farewell  or  rant  is  noted  in  Song  No.  311. 

No.  326.  But  lately  seen  in  gladsome  green.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1796,  No.  486,  signed  '  B,'  entitled  The  winter  of  life.  Scotish  Airs,  1801,  139. 
The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  On  October  19,  1794,  a  copy  was  sent  to 
Thomson.  The  verses  illustrate  one  of  the  poet's  mental  phases.  His  hair 
was  showing  a  silver  streak,  and  Time  told  him  that  the  meridian  of  his  days 
was  past.  He  describes  the  melody  to  Thomson  in  these  words  :  '  I  enclose 
you  a  musical  curiosity — an  East  Indian  air  which  you  would  swear  was 
a  Scots  one.  I  know  the  authenticity  of  it,  as  the  gentleman  who  brought  it 
over  is  a  particular  acquaintance  of  mine.  Clarke  has  set  a  bass  to  it,  and 
I  intend  putting  it  into  the  Musical  Museum?  If  the  tune  in  our  text,  which  is 
copied  from  the  Museum,  is  the  East  Indian  Air  referred  to,  it  is  very  remark- 
able, because  it  looks  like  a  make-up  of  the  Scottish  Chevy  Chase  of  Song 
No.  267. 

No.  327.  "Wee  "Willie  Gray  and  his  leather  wallet.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1803,  No.  j/^.  '  Written  for  this  work  by  R.  Burns,'  for  an  original 

li  2 


484 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


tune  which,  according  to  Stenhouse,  obtained  its  name  from  the  first  line  of  the 
following  old  nursery  rhyme  : — 

'  Wee  Totum  Fogg  sits  upon  a  creepie ; 
Half  an  ell  o'  gray  wad  be  his  coat  and  breekie/ 

It  is  a  gay  pipe  melody,  one  of  the  class  common  in  the  eighteenth  century  in 
Roxburgh  and  Northumberland.  Dusty  Miller,  of  Song  No.  180,  belongs  to 
the  class. 

No.  328.  He  clench'd  his  pamphlets  in  his  fist.  Cromek's  Reliques, 
1808,  418,  entitled  'Extempore  in  the  Court  of  Session.  Tune,  Killiecrankie? 
A^IS.  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Burns  visited  the  Law  Courts  in  Edinburgh 
to  study  man  and  manners;  the  above  two  stanzas  were  written  on  the  spot 
while  a  trial  was  going  on  in  the  Court  of  Session.  The  simulated  passion  of 
the  Counsel  on  both  sides  is  pure  Burns.  Lord  Advocate  Hay  Campbell  was 
for  the  prosecution,  and  Burns's  friend  Henry  Erskine  the  Dean  of  Faculty  for 
the  defence.  There  is  a  fine  touch  in  the  concluding  lines  of  the  song  : — 

'The  Bench  sae  wise  lift  up  their  eyes 
Half-wauken'd  wi'  the  din  man.' 

It  suggests  a  not  unusual  condition  of  the  Scottish  Bench  after  a  stiff  encounter 
with  Bacchus  the  previous  night. 

The  tune  is  a  seventeenth  century  melody  composed  not  much  later  than  the 
battle  of  Killiecrankie,  where  Claverhouse  was  killed  on  July  27,  1689.  The 
Scottish  song  writers  h£d  a  peculiar  knack  of  making  fun  of  the  battles  of  their 
country,  and  their  humour  is  unrestrained  on  Killiecrankie,  Sheriffmuir,  and 
Preston  pans.  In  the  satire  Scotch  Presbyterian  Eloquence,  1694,  78,  Killie- 
crankie is  designated  'a  malignant  song.'  The  music  is  in  Atkinson* s  MS., 
1694;  Playford's  Original  Scotch  Tunes,  1700;  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion, 
1751,  iii.  26;  McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1755,  18;  Aird'sAirs,  1782,11.  No.  i8\ 
the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  102;  and  Ritson's  Scotish  Songs,  1794, 
ii.  44.  For  tune,  see  No.  2j6. 

No.  329.  Orthodox!  orthodox!  wha  believe  in  John  Knox.  Poems 
ascribed  to  Robert  Burns,  1801,  20,  entitled  The  kirk's  alarm.  A  Satire. 
Scott-Douglas  edition.  1877,  ii.  236.  Tune,  Come  rouse,  brother  sportsmen. 
The  origin  of  the  ballad  may  be  briefly  told.  In  the  year  1786,  Dr.  William 
McGill,  colleague  of  Dr.  Dalrymple  the  Parish  Minister  of  Ayr,  published 
a  practical  essay  on  the  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  opinions  of  the  writer 
gave  offence  to  many  worthy  but  narrow-minded  people  in  the  parish,  and  the 
Kirk  Session  scented  heresy  in  the  work.  The  doctrines  taught  were  considered 
unscriptural,  and  destructive  of  the  principles  of  Evangelism.  At  first  the 
author  was  privately  admonished,  but  a  strong  undercurrent  of  enthusiasm 
agitated  the  minds  of  the  disaffected,  which  threatened  at  any  time  to  break 
out.  With  all  this  highly  inflammable  material  in  the  air  '  Dalrymple  mild 
with  his  heart  like  a  child '  unwittingly  set  the  heather  on  fire.  He  referred  to 
a  book  he  had  written  on  the  same  subject,  in  which  the  views  of  his  colleague 
were  supported.  At  this  point  the  fury  of  the  orthodox  against  the  offending 
brother  broke  out  with  fierce  denunciation  of  his  opinions.  In  November, 
1788,  Dr.  William  Peebles  preached  a  sermon,  in  which  he  denounced  heresy 
in  strong  language,  and  stigmatized  Dr.  McGill  as  one  who  received  the  privi- 
leges of  the  Church  with  one  hand,  and  stabbed  her  in  the  back  with  the  other. 
McGill  defended  himself  without  convincing  the  enemy,  and  matters  progressed 
until  a  complaint  of  heresy  was  lodged  with  the  Synod  of  Ayr,  and  remitted  to 
the  General  Assembly  for  trial.  The  case  was  opened  in  May,  1789,  discussed 
and  sent  back  to  the  Synod  for  a  committee  to  be  appointed  to  draw  up  specific 
charges.  In  July  the  committee  began  its  work,  and  at  this  point  Burns  steps 
in  on  the  scene  with  The  Kirk's  alarm.  The  case  dragged  on  slowly  for  two 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


485 


years,  and  in  the  end  Dr.  McGill  was  found  guilty  of  the  major  charge. 
Worried,  and  threatened  with  dismissal,  he  humbled  himself  and  apologized, 
declared  his  adherence  to  the  Confession  of  Faith,  and  was  purged. 

For  the'  style  of  The  Kirk's  alarm  we  must  go  back  to  the  religious  and 
political  pasquils  of  the  seventeenth  century,  which  trampled  rough-shod  over 
the  reputations  of  antagonists.  He  who  wrote  The  Kirk 's  alarm  may  not 
have  been  a  man  to  be  loved,  but  he  clearly  was  one  to  be  feared  and  respected. 
His  own  opinion  of  the  poem  is  described  in  several  letters  to  intimate  friends, 
to  whom  he  sent  copies  of  the  verses.  He  enjoined  them  to  show  the  poem 
only  to  a  privileged  '  few  of  us.'  Gavin  Hamilton  received  the  first  unfinished 
draft  with  strict  injunctions  to  read  it  only  to  intimate  friends.  On  August  7 
a  complete  copy  was  forwarded  to  John  Logan,  a  farmer  at  Glenshinnoch,  and 
the  following  is  an  extract  from  the  letter  enclosing  it :  '  I  dare  not  write  you 
a  long  letter,  as  I  am  going  to  intrude  on  your  time  with  a  long  ballad. 
I  have,  as  you  will  shortly  see,  finished  The  Kirk's  alarm ;  but  now  that  it  is 
done,  and  that  I  have  laughed  once  or  twice  at  the  conceits  in  some  of  the 
stanzas,  I  am  determined  not  to  let  it  get  into  the  public ;  SQ  I  send  you  this 
copy,  the  first  that  I  have  sent  to  Ayrshire  (except  some  few  of  the  stanzas 
which  I  wrote  off  in  embryo  for  Gavin  Hamilton),  under  the  express  provision 
and  request  that  you  will  only  read  it  to  a  few  of  us,  and  do  not  on  any  account 
give  or  permit  to  be  taken  any  copy  of  the  ballad.'  Some  time  later  he  sent 
copies  to  Graham  of  Fintry  and  others,  and  the  nature  of  the  ballad  leaked  out, 
for  it  was  too  good  to  be  kept  secret. 

The  existing  MS.  copies  nearly  all  differ  from  one  another,  and  the  stanzas 
vary  from  nine  to  twenty  in  number.  The  verses  in  the  text  include  the  whole 
in  all  the  MSS.,  and  are"  based  on  that  in  the  Works  of  Burns,  Edinburgh, 
1877.  Burns  kept  the  resolution  not  to  print  the  ballad,  but  it  was  published 
surreptitiously  in  a  broadside  in  1789.  The  fact  that  The  Kirk's  alarm  is 
a  song,  and  was  written  to  be  sung,  has  been  quite  overlooked.  It  has  not 
until  now  been  printed  with  a  tune.  Every  copy  made  by  Burns  named  a  tune, 
but  not  always  the  same.  Indeed,  Burns  gave  the  choice  of  five  different 
melodies,  as  if  he  was  not  very  sure  of  any  of  them.  In  Mrs.  Dunlop's  copy 
(Lochryan  MS.)  the  tune  is  marked  Push  about  the  brisk  bowl ;  MS  in  Edinburgh 
University,  The  hounds  are  all  out]  MS.  in  Burns  Monument,  Edinburgh, 
Come  rouse  brother  sportsmen  ;  and  in  a  broadside  The  Ayrshire  Garland,  1 789, 
The  vicar  and  Moses.  None  of  these  melodies  fit  the  rhythm,  and  all  are 
English  as  well  as  the  one  here  noted,  Prepare  my  dear  brethren,  which 
I  believe  Burns  had  in  his  mind  but  of  which  he  could  not  recall  the  name. 
The  political  song  on  Fox  referred  to  in  the  Centenary  edition  ii.  329  indicates 
that  the  tune  is  that  of  the  Freemasons'  Song  already  discussed  in  Song 
No.  236. 

The  following  notes  are  partly  the  poet's  own.  Stanza  2  :  '  Dr.  McGill,  Ayr 
(R.  B.).'  The  hero  of  the  Song  who  was  prosecuted  for  heresy.  St.  3  :  'John 
Ballantine,  provost  of  Ayr,  a  friend  of  Burns.  The  magistrates  of  the  town 
advertised  their  appreciation  of  Dr.  McGill  and  Robert  Aiken,  writer,  Ayr 
(R.  B.),'  who  defended  the  accused  and  to  whom  Burns  had  dedicated  The 
Cottar's  Saturday  Night.  St.  4 :  '  Dr.  Dalrymple,  Ayr  (R.  B.),'  who  approved 
the  opinions  of  his  colleague,  Dr.  McGill.  St.  6  :  '  John  Russell,  Kilmarnock 
(R.  B.) ' ;  or  Black  Jock  of  The  holy  fair,  who  poured  out  brimstone  sermons 
with  a  ponderous  voice.  St.  7:  'James  MacKinlay,  Kilmarnock  (R.  B.)/  on 
whom  Burns  wrote  The  Ordination  beginning  '  Kilmarnock  wabsters,  fidge  and 
claw.'  He  had  a  persuasive  style  of  Calvinistic  oratory  which  pleased  his 
flock.  St.  8  :  '  Alexander  Moodie  of  Riccarton  (R.  B.).'  Another  terror  to 
evil-doers.  St.  9 :  '  William  Peebles,  in  Newton-upon-Ayr,  a  poetaster,  who, 
among  many  other  things,  published  an  ode  on  the  Centenary  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, in  which  was  the  line  "  And  bound  in  Liberty's  endearing  chain  "  (R.  B .).' 
St.  10 :  'Stephen  Young  of  Barr  (R.  B.),'  formerly  assistant  at  Ochiltree. 


486 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


St.  1 1  :  '  James  Young  in  New  Cumnock,  who  had  lately  been  foiled  in  an 
ecclesiastical  prosecution  against  a  lieutenant  Mitchell  (R.  B.).'  St.  12  : 
;  David  Grant,  Ochiltree  (R.  B.),'  a  virulent  opponent  of  Dr.  M°Gill.  St.  13  : 
'George  Smith,  Galston  (R.  B.),'  or'Geordie*  of  the  Two.  //mfo,who  tried  to 
hunt  with  the  Old  Licht  and  run  with  the  New.  St.  14:  'John  Shepherd, 
Muirkirk  (R.  B.).'  St.  15:  'Dr.  Andrew  Mitchell,  Monkton  (R.  B.).'  A 
minister  of  some  private  means  and  little  sense.  St.  16 :  *  William  Auld, 
Mauchline:  for  the  'Clerk,'  see  Holy  Willie's  Prayer  (R.  B.).'  St.  17: 
William  Fisher,  Elder  or  Holy  Willie,  the  subject  of  '  The  Prayer.'  St.  19 : 
Most  probably  John  M°Murdo,  a  particular  friend  of  Burns,  who  became 
Chamberlain  to  the  Duke  of  Queensberry.  St.  20  r  John  Logan,  'laird  of 
Afton,'  to  whom  the  first  copy  of  The  Kirk's  alarm  was  sent. 

No.  330.  Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare.  Cromek's  Reliques, 
1 808,  208,  entitled  Elegy  on  Willie  Nicol' s  mare.  The  death  of  Peg  Nicholson 
was  announced  by  Burns  on  February  9,  1790  to  the  owner.  Nicol  had  bought 
the  animal — a  bargain  as  he  thought— from  a  horse  couper,  who  did  no  dis- 
credit to  the  reputed  character  of  his  profession.  Nicol  sent  her  to  the  care  of 
Burns  for  change  of  air  and  diet,  and  she  was  named  by  the  farm  servants  of 
Ellisland  Peg  Nicholson,  in  honour  of  an  insane  woman,  who  attempted  the 
assassination  of  George  III.  Peg's  death  was  apparently  premature,  as  the 
following  characteristic  extract  shows  :  '  My  dear  sir,  that  d — d  mare  of  yours 
is  dead.  I  would  freely  have  given  her  price  to  have  saved  her :  she  has  vexed 
me  beyond  description.  Indebted  as  I  was  to  your  goodness  beyond  what  I  can 
ever  repay,  I  eagerly  grasped  at  your  offer  to  have  the  mare  with  me.  That 
I  might  at  least  show  my  readiness  in  wishing  to  be  grateful,  I  took  every  care 
of  her  in  my  power.  She  was  never  crossed  for  riding  above  half  a  score  of 
times  by  me  or  in  my  keeping.  I  drew  her  in  the  plough,  one  of  three,  for  one 
poor  week.  I  refused  fifty-five  shillings  for  her,  which  was  the  highest  bode 
I  could  squeeze  for  her.  I  fed  her  up  and  had  her  in  fine  order  for  Dumfries 
fair ;  when  four  or  five  days  before  the  fair,  she  was  seized  with  an  unaccount- 
able disorder  in  the  sinews,  or  somewhere  in  the -bones  of  the  neck;  with 
a  weakness  or  total  want  of  power  in  her  fillets,  and  in  short  the  whole 
vertebrae  of  her  spine  seemed  to  be  diseased  and  unhinged,  and  in  eight  and 
forty  hours,  in  spite  of  the  two  best  farriers  in  the  country,  she  died,  and  be  d— d 
to  her!  The  farriers  said  that  she  had  been  quite  strained  in  the  fillets  beyond 
cure  before  you  had  bought  her,  and  that  the  poor  devil,  though  she  might  keep 
a  little  flesh,  had  been  jaded  and  quite  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  oppression.' 
Further  on  in  same  letter  Burns  says :  '  I  have  likewise  strung  four  or  five 
barbarous  stanzas,  to  the  tune  of  Chevy  Chase,  by  way  of  elegy  on  your 
unfortunate  mare.'  See  music,  and  Notes  on  No.  267  or  274,  either  of  which 
tunes  fits  the  words. 

No.  331.  There  lived  a  carl  in  Kellyburn  braes.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  jJ9,  entitled  Kellyburn  braes.  MS.  in  the  British  Museum.  Another 
but  indifferent  version  by  Burns  is  in  Ait  ken  s  edit.  1893.  The  Kelly  burn  is 
an  upland  stream  separating  the  northern  part  of  Ayrshire  from  Renfrew. 
Who  the  carl  was  is  not  recorded.  The  representation  of  a  termagant  is  a  very 
old  story  in  English  literature.  The  Schole-house  of  women,  1 541,  and  the  Curste 
Wyfe  lapped  in  Morrelles  Skin,  c.  1575,  are  two  metrical  Gests  of  this  kind. 
The  earliest  recorded  English  ballad  entitled  The  devil  and  the  scold,  to  the  tune 
of  The  Seminary  Priest,  in  Collier's  Book  of  Roxburgh  Ballads,  1847,  #>  is 
probably  of  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  The  kind  husband  of  this  shrew 
permitted  the  devil  to  carry  her  away.  She  treated  Satan  so  unmercifully  that 
he  regretted  the  choice  and  returned  her  to  the  husband.  •  This  ballad  was 
often  reprinted  in  the  seventeenth  century ;  and  the  carl  of  Kellyburn  braes  is  the 
same  subject  treated  in  a  more  gay  and  humorous  manner.  Cromek  printed 
a  version  in  Nilhsdale  and  Galloway  Songs,  1810,  8j,  differing  materially  from 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  487 

Bams  and  represented  to  be  the  Burns  original,  which  I  do  not  believe.  A 
fragment  on  the  subject  is  in  the  Herd  MS.  as  follows : — 

'  Now  take  a  Cud  in  ilka  hand 

And  bace  her  up  and  down,  man 
And  she'll  be  ane  o'  the  best  o'  wives 
That  ever  took  the  town,  man.' 

The  tune  is  a  variant  of  the  Queen  of  the  Lothians,  as  it  is  probably  also  of 
Last  May  a  braw  wooer,  Song  No.  201. 

No.  332.  There  was  three  kings  into  the  east.  John  Barleycorn — A 
song-  to  its  own  tune.  '  I  once  heard  the  old  song  that  goes  by  this  name  sung, 
and  being  very  fond  of  it,  and  remembering  only  two  or  three  verses  of  it,  viz*, 
the  first,  second,  and  third,  with  some  scraps  which  I  have  interwoven  here  and 
there '  (Commonplace  Book,  1827,  28}.  It  is  printed  in  the  Edinburgh  edition, 
1787,  }o6.  Ballads  celebrating  the  prowess  of  this  redoubtable  hero  have  been 
known  in  England  and  Scotland  for  more  than  three  centuries.  The  earliest 
version  is  in  the  Bannatyne  MS.  1568,  entitled  Why  should  not  Allane  honorit 
be,  subscribed  Allane  Matsonis  Suddartis,  a  pseudonym  or  parody  on  the  title 
Allane-a-maut ;  it  is  in  twelve  stanzas  of  five  lines,  the  first  in  modern  ortho- 
graphy being  as  follows  : — 

'  When  he  was  young  and  clad  in  green, 

Having  his  hair  about  his  een, 

Baith  men  and  women  did  him  mene, 

When  he  grew  on  yon  hillis  hie; — 

Why  should  not  Allane  honoured  be?' 

Another  Scottish  version,  somewhat  later,  begins : — 

'  Gude  Allan  o'  maut  was  ance  ca'd  Bear, 
And  he  was  cadged  frae  wa'  to  wear, 
And  dragglet  wi'  muck,  and  syne  wi'  rain, 
Till  he  die't,  and  cam  to  life  again.' 

A  third  version  from  the  recollection  of  Robert  Jamieson,  the  editor  of  Popular 
Ballads ',  1806,  who  learnt  it  in  Moray  shire  when  he  was  a  boy,  is  a  variation 
of  that  which  the  poet  had  heard  sung  in  the  south-west  of  Scotland.  The  first 
stanza  runs : — 

'  There  came  three  merry  men  from  the  east, 
And  three  merry  men  they  be ; 
And  they  have  sworn  a  solemn  oath 
John  Barleycorn  should  die.' 

In  England  also  there  were  at  least  three  ballads  of  the  same  kind.  One, 
entitled  Mr.  Mault  he  is  a  gentleman,  was  sung  to  the  tune  Triumph  and  Joy, 
another  name  for  the  Elizabethan  melody  Green-sleeves  ;  a  second  called  The 
little  barleycorne  to  the  tune  Stingo — the  early,  name  for  Cold  and  raw  ;  while 
the  third  and  best  known  English  version  is  that  in  the  Pepys  collection  of 
ballads,  entitled ;  A  pleasant  new  ballad  to  sing  evening-  and  morn,  of  the  bloody 
murther  of  Sir  John  Barleycorn,  to  the  tune  Lull  me  beyond  thee,  which  begins 
thus  :— 

'As  I  went  through  the  north  countrie, 

I  heard  a  merry  meeting, 
A  pleasant  toy,  and  full  of  joy 

Two  noblemen  were  greeting.' 

The  two  noblemen  were  Sir  Richard  Beer,  and  Sir  William  Whitewine  who, 
meeting  John  Barleycorn,  fought  with  him,  but  failed  to  overpower  him.  All 
the  ballads  above  referred  to  are  in  Jamieson's  Ballads,  1806,  ii.  231-260.  The 
tune  of  the  English  ballad  Lull  me  beyond  thee  is  a  north-country  tune  first 
printed  in  the  first  edition  of  Playford's  Dancing  Master,  1650.  It  is  uncertain 


488  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

whether  Bujns  intended  his  ballad  for  that  air,  or  for  Cold  and  raw  (see  No. 
321}.  The  music  of  Lull  me  beyond  thee  in  the  text  is  from  Playford's  Dancing 
Master,  1670. 

No.  333.  WhenJanuar'  -wind  was  bl&winc&nld.' Scots  Musicat  Museum, 
1796,  No.  448  entitled  The  bonie  lass  made  the  bed  to  me.  The  MS.  is  in  the 
British  Museum.  A  new  version  of  an  old  ballad  written  for  and  printed  in 
the  Museum.  Stenhouse,  and  Chambers  after  him?  printed  a  bowdlerized  and 
unauthorized  short  version  which  the  former  said  was  corrected  by  Burns.  The 
Note  and  two  stanzas  in  Cromek's  Reliques,  p.  256,  connecting  the  original 
ballad  with  Charles  II  is  not  in  the  Interleaved  Museum,  and  must  in  the  future 
not  be  regarded  as  the  statement  of  Burns.  The  ballad  was  printed  as  a  broad- 
side in  London  as  early  as  1670.  A  copy  is  in  the  Douce  collection  entitled 
Cumberland  Nelly  or  the  North  Country  Lovers  .  .  .  Tune  The  lass  that  comes 
to  bed  to  me.  The  verses  and  music  are  in  Pills  to  purge  melancholy,  1719,  iv. 
/£?,  as  The  Cumberland  Lass.  The  poetry  is  very  prosaic,  and  if  any  one  is. 
curious  to  see  how  Burns  vivified  dull  verses,  he  may  compare  that  in  our  text 
with  the  ballad  in  the  Pills.  The  English  tune  The  Cumberland  Lass  is  not 
the  same  as  that  in  the  Museum  which  Stenhouse  affirms  was  communicated 
by  Burns  to  the  editor  of  that  collection.  {Illustrations,  p.  ^97.)  The  first  two 
phrases  resemble  Johnie  Cope,  and  the  whole  structure  is  unlike  a  Scottish 
melody.  It  may  be  remarked  that,  although  the  English  ballad  has  a  chorus, 
the  tune  of  four  lines  does  service  for  both  verse  and  chorus.  Dauney  states 
that  there  is  a  tune  entitled  To  bed  to  me  in  Blaikie's  MS.  1692. 

No.  334.  O,  Lady  Mary  Ann  looks  o'er  the  castle  wa'..  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1792,  No.  ^77,  entitled  Lady  Mary  Ann.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British 
Museum.  A. fragment  of  eight  lines,  where  the  names  of  Lady  Mary  Ann  and 
Charlie  Cochrane  do  not  occur,  is  in  the  Herd  MS.  A  more  complete  but 
fttshionless  version  is  in  Maidment's  North  Count  rie  Garland,  1824,  and 
another  is  in  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  1827,  86.  The  story  of  the  ballad  is 
related  by  Spalding,  the  following  being  an  abstract: — John  Urquhart  of 
Craigston  died  November,  1634,  leaving  a  young  grandson  as  heir.  His 
guardian,  the  Laird  Innes,  coveted  the  estates,  and  in  order  to  keep  the 
property  in  the  family,  married  the  boy  to  his  uncomely  eldest  daughter 
Elizabeth  Innes,  who  willingly  accepted  him.  The  marriage  was  of  short 
duration,  for  the  young  husband  died  while  he  was  still  at  school.  The  last 
stanza  of  Maidment's  copy  explains  all  that  is  necessary  to  be  said  here  : — 

'In  his  twelfth  year  he  was  a  married  man, 
In  his  thirteenth  year  then  he  got  a  son  ; 
In  his  fourteenth  year  his  grave  grew  green, 
And  that  was  the  end  of  his  growing.' 

The  verses  in  the  text  bear  the  mark  of  Burns's  hand,  and  are  all  his  own  except 
the  first  two  stanzas  which  he  very  much  improved.  He  took  very  little  interest 
in  historical  and  romantic  ballads.  The  incidents  in  them  were  too  far  removed 
from  actual  life.  In  sending  to  Mr.  Tytler  copies  of  those  he  recovered,  he 
expresses  the  listless  feeling  which  he  had  for  them. 

The  tune  was  printed  for  the  first  time  in  the  Museum.  A  tune  entitled  Long 
a  growing  is  said  to  be  in  Guthrie's  MS.  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

*  No.  335.  There  liv'd  a  man  in  yonder  glen.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  j6j.  The  MS.  in  Burns's  handwriting  is  in  the  British  Museum. 
Another  holograph  version  with  variations,  and  not  so  good,  was  sold  by 
Mr.  Quaritch  in  August,  1900.  This  is  the  first  time  that  the  song  is  printed 
as  the  work  of  Burns.  It  has  all  the  national  Scottish  colour,  but  the  legend  is 
widely  extended,  and  is  known  in  France,  Italy,  Turkey,  and  Arabia.  Who  the 
Scottish  original  was  is  obscure,  but  the  name  of  Johnie  Blunt  is  on  record  four 
hundred  years  ago,  and  he  is  referred  to  in  William  Dunbar's  Twa  mareit  wemen, 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  489 

Cblished  in  1508  :  « For  all  the  buddis  of  Johne  Blunt  when  he  abone  clymis.' 
ing's  Dunbar,  i.  66.  The  details  of  the  tale  differ  in  the  various  countries. 
That  in  Straparolo's  Eighth  Day  describes  a  traveller  seeking  lodgings ;  and 
arriving  at  an  open  house  he  enters  and  finds  a  man  lying  on  a  bench,  apparently 
alive  but  speechless.  He  next  addresses  the  wife,  who  is  in  bed  with  a  like 
result,  and  being  tired  he  gets  into  bed.  In  the  morning  when  the  traveller  has 
risen,  the  wife,  no  longer  able  to  remain  silent,  furiously  enquires  of  the  husband 
what  sort  of  a  man  he  is  to  permit  a  stranger  to  occupy  his  bed.  *  Fool,  fool ! ' 
the  man  replies ;  « get  up  and  shut  the  door.'  Blunt  in  the  old  Scots  language 
meant  stripped,  bare,  naked ;  and  equivocally  that  meaning  may  be  attached  to 
the  quotation  of  Dunbar. 

The  ballad  of  Burns  correctly  states  that  Johnie  Blunt  '  bears  a  wondrous 
fame,  O,'  and  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  the  legend  on  which  he  wrote  is 
very  old.  The  more  modern  Scottish  version  of  the  tale  entitled  The  barrin  o 
the  door,  and  written  for  general  use,  was  first  published  in  Herd's  Scots  Songs, 
1 769,^0,  and  is  still  very  popular.  'It  begins  as  follows : — 
'It  fell  about  the  Martinmas  time, 

And  a  gay  time  it  was  then ; 
When  our  guidwife  had  puddings  to  make 

And  she  boiled  them  in  the  pan.' 

One  of  the  '  two  gentlemen '  in  this  case  proposes  to  shave  the  man  with  the 
pudding  soup,  and  the  other  is  to  kiss  the  wife.  The  man,  like  Johnie  Blunt, 
first  breaks  into  speech. 

I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  the  assertion  of  Stenhouse  that  Burns  communicated 
the  tune  Johnie  Blunt,  which  was  with  the  verses  originally  published  anony- 
mously in  the  Museum,  and  have  so  remained  until  now. 

*  No.  336.  Upon  the  Lomonds  I  lay,  I  lay.  This  very  well-known  song, 
with  its  gay  melody,  is  reproduced  in  nearly  every  miscellaneous  collection  of 
Scottish  Songs,  but  Bums  is  never  connected  with  it,  and  this  is  the  first  time 
the  verses  are  published  as  his  work.  They  were  originally  published  anony- 
mously in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1790,  No.  299,  from  Burns's  MS.  now  in 
the  British  Museum,  and  Burns  styles  them  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words '  in  Law's 
MS.  List.  A  note  in  the  index  of  the  Museum  gravely  states  that  the  song  '  is 
said  to  be  composed  on  the  imprisonment  of  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  in  Lochleven 
Castle.' 

The  music  is  at  least  as  early  as  the  first  rebellion.  In  the  year  1716,  when 
Argyle's  Highlanders  entered  Perth  and  Dundee,  the  three  companies  had 
distinct  pipers  who  respectively  played  The  Campbells  are  coming  Oho,  Oho ! ; 
Wilt  thou  play  me  fair  play,  Highland  ladie  ;  and  Stay  and  take  the  breiks 
with  thee  (Wodroiv  Correspondence,  vol.  xi.  No.  96}.  No  verses  for  the  tune 
are  found  earlier  than  those  entitled  The  Clans  in  Loyal  Songs,  1750,  the  first 
stanza  of  which  is : — 

'Here's  a  health  to  all  brave  English  lads, 

Both  lords  and  squires  of  high  renown, 
That  will  put  to  their  helping  hand 

To  pull  the  vile  usurper  down; 
For  our  brave  Scots  are  all  on  foot, 
Proclaiming  loud  where'er  they  go 
With  sound  of  trumpet,  pipe  and  drum; 
The  Clans  are  coming,  Oho,  Oho ! ' 

This  may  have  been  the  parody  of  an  earlier  popular  song,  but  none  is  known, 
and  Burns's  verses  in  the  text  are  the  original  on  the  Campbells.  The  instru- 
mental tune  Campbells  are  coming  Oho\  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1761,  8j  ; 
and  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1751,  iii.  12.  It  is  one  of  the  irresistible 
melodies  of  Scotland  which  Mr.  Glen  says  is  in  Walsh's  Caledonian  Country 
Dances,  c.  1745,  entitled  Hob  or  Nob. 


490  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

*No.  337.  Twa  bonie  lads  were  Sandy  and  Jockie.  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1790,  No.  283,  anonymous.  In  Gray's  MS.  List  marked  by  Bums, 
'  Mr.  B —  words,'  and  in  Law's  MS.  List,  '  Mr.  Burns  sent  words  to  this 
beginning  "  Twa  bonie  lads  were  Sandy  and  Jockie." '  The  original  of  Un- 
fortunate Jockey  is  a  song  of  ten  stanzas  by  Durfey  in  The  Royalist,  and  which, 
according  to  Chappell,  was  printed  on  a  broadside  with  music  in  1682.  The 
verses  alone  are  in  180  Loyal  Songs,  1685,  282.  Of  the  words  of  Burns  in  one 
stanza  in  eight  lines,  as  in  our  text,  only  the  first  two  lines  are  borrowed  from 
Durfey,  the  rest  are  original.  The  tune  in  the  Museum,  a  variation  of  the 
English  melody,  can  be  seen  in  Bickham's  Musical  Entertainer,  1737,  i.  /9,  as 
in  our  text;  and  in  Calliope,  1739,  i.  128 ;  both  with  an  embellished  design 
representing  the  lovers  fighting  a  duel.  The  rapier  of  Sawney  has  pierced 
Jockey's  unfortunate  body  fore  and  aft. 

*KTo.  338.  Its  up  wi'  the  Souters  o*  Selkirk.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
!796,  No.  4)8.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum  with  a  note,  also  by 
Burns,  'This  tune  can  be  found  anywhere.'  Tytler  is  his  Dissertation 
regarded  the  song  of  the  Sutors  o'  Selkirk  as  coeval  with  The  flowers  of  the 
forest^  and  stated  that  it  was  founded  on  the  story  of  the  Town  Clerk  of  Selkirk 
conducting  a  band  of  eighty  souters  to  fight  for  the  king  at  the  battle  of 
Flodden.  Ritson  cynically  replied  that  all  the  shoemakers  of  Scotland  could 
scarcely  have  produced  such  an  army  at  a  time  when  shoes  were  so  little  worn 
there.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  sheriff-depute  of  Selkirk  and  a  member  of  the  honour- 
able fraternity  of  Souters,  wrote  a  long  note  in  his  Minstrelsy  (ed.  1873,  iii.  317} 
to  prove  that  the  '  souters '  were  an  old  body,  but  that  the  connexion  of  the 
song  with  Flodden  is  altogether  improbable.  The  fragment  communicated 
by  Burns  was  originally  published  in  the  Museum.  He  probably  obtained  the 
first  four  lines  from  Herd.  The  following  addition  is  the  middle  stanza  of  the 
version  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy  : — 

*  Fye  upon  yellow  and  yellow, 

And  fye  upon  yellow  and  green 
And  up  wi'  the  true  blue  and  scarlet, 
And  up  wi'  the  single-soled  sheen.' 

Stenhouse  quotes  (Illust.  page  390)  two  double  stanzas  which  he  heard  sung 
'  in  his  younger  days,'  containing  a  variation  of  the  above  verse  of  Scott. 

Although  the  Burns  fragment  was  the  earliest  publication  in  1796,  the  tune 
with  the  title  was  printed  in  Craig's  Scots  Times,  1730,  28.  A  variation  of  the 
music  is  in  Apollo "s  Banquet,  1687,  entitled  a  Scotch  hornpipe,  and  also  in  the 
edition  of  1690  as  a  dance  tune  in  nine-four  time.  The  tune  is  also  in 
M°Gibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1746,31;  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  1743,  i.J4', 
McLean's  Scots  Tunes,  c.  1772,  79;  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  197;  and  in  the 
Museum  with  Burns's  words.  His  name  is  never  mentioned  as  the  original 
contributor  of  the  verses  of  the  Souters  d  Selkirk. 

*No.  339.  Our  lords  are  to  the  mountains  gane.  This,  the  earliest  and 
the  best  Scottish  version  of  the  vigorous  border  ballad  Hughie  Graham,  is  from 
Burns's  MS.  in  the  British  Museum.  It  was  originally  published  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  joj,  with  a  variation  (noted  in  the  text)  of  two 
lines  in  the  tenth  stanza.  The  following  is  in  the  Interleaved  Mttseum  : — 
*  There  are  several  editions  of  this  ballad. — This  is  from  oral  tradition  in  Ayr- 
shire, where,  when  I  was  a  boy,  it  was  a  popular  song. — It  originally  had 
a  simple,  old  tune,  which  I  have  forgotten.'  According  to  Cromek  the  third 
and  eighth  stanzas  are  original  by  Burns,  while  the  rest  was  corrected  by  him, 
but  there  is  no  evidence  for  the  statement.  The  eleventh  and  twelfth  stanzas 
are  obscure.  Since  Burns,  several  versions  have  been  printed  and  all  more  or 
less  altered  by  collectors.  Ritson,  Scott,  Chambers,  and  others  all  differ  from 
one  another,  and  two  traditional  versions  of  the  Bums  set  are  at  Abbotsford. 
The  best  selections  can  be  seen  in  Child's  Ballads,  1890,  iv.  8.  The  English 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  491 

version,  entitled  Life  and  death  of  Sir  Hugh  of  the  Grime,  is  in  the  Roxburgh 
Ballads  \  and  in  Durfey's  Pills,  1720,  vi.  289,  marked  to  be  sung  to  Chevy 
Chase.  The  basis  of  the  tale  is  the  same,  but  verbally  the  difference  is  very 
considerable,  and  no  comparison  can  be  made.  The  scene  of  Burns's  tale  is 
Carlisle;  some  of  the  others  place  it  in  Stirling.  It  is  alleged  that  the 

*  wanton  bishop'  was  Robert  Aldridge,  Lord  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  to  whom  was 
issued  bills  of  complaint  in  1553  against  four  hundred  borderers  for  burnings, 
murders,  mutilations,  &c.     Hughie  Graham  may  have  been  one  of  the  number, 
but  there  is  no  historical  evidence  for  connecting  the  legend  with  this  bishop. 
The  melody  being  unknown  to  Burns,  the  editor  of  the  Museum  set  the  verses 
to  Druimionn  Dubh,  see  No.  32,  a  Celtic  air. 

*No.  340.  As  I  cam  down  by  yon  Castle  wa'.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  326.  The  MS.  is  in  the  British  Museum,  and  his  note  in  the 
Interleaved  Museum  is  :  '  This  is  a  very  popular  Ayrshire  song.'  Stenhouse 
knew  the  source  of  the  verses  published  in  the  Museum,  and  records  that 

*  both  the  words  and  music  were  transmitted  by  Burns  to  Johnson.'    (Illust. 
page  j//.)     The  earliest  symptom  of  the  ballad  is  a  short  fragment  in  Herd's 
MS.  and  printed  in  Scottish  Songs,  r776,  ii.  6.     It  begins: — 

'O,  my  bonny  bonny  May,  will  ye  not  rue  upon  me 

A  sound  sound  sleep  I'll  never  get,  until  I  lye  ayont  thee.' 

but  Burns's  version  gave  the  first  intelligible  account  which  ultimately  expanded 
into  the  numerous  stanzas  of  the  Laird  of  Drum  where  a  brisk  dialogue  takes 
place  between  the  Laird  and  a  saucy  '  bonny  May,'  whom  he  found  shearing 
barley.  At  first  she  would  not  wed  him  at  any  price,  but  ultimately  consented, 
and  he  won  '  Peggy  Coutts '  without  money  or  education.  As  the  Laird  had 
for  his  first  wife  in  1643  the  fourth  daughter  of  the  powerful  Marquis  of 
Huntley,  he  got  into  disgrace  with  his  kin.  The  ballad  with  a  note  is  in 
Kinloch's  Ballads,  1827,  109.  (See  No.  342?)  The  tune  as  in  the  text  was 
originally  printed  in  the  Museum  with  the  verses.  If  it  bears  a  somewhat 
distant  resemblance  to  another  Scottish  melody,  it  is  nevertheless  an  excellent 
variant. 

*No.  341.  O,  where  hae  ye  been  Lord  Bonald,  my  son  ?  In  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  327,  from  Burns's  MS.  in  the  British  Museum, 
entitled  Lord  Ronald,  my  son.  '  The  fragment  of  this  ancient  ballad,  with  the 
beautiful  air  to  which  it  is  sung,  were  both  recovered  by  Burns  and  placed  in  the 
Museum ' :  (Stenhouse,  Illust.  311}.  Later  versions  appear  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy, 
1803,  iii.  292;  Kinloch's  Scottish  Ballads,  1827,  no,  entitled  Lord  Donald, 
where  the  young  man's  sweetheart  poisons  him,  with  '  a  dish  of  sma'  fishes.' 
The  legacy  he  leaves  with  his  mother  is  described  in  the  last  two  lines  : — 

'  The  tow  and  the  halter  for  to  hang  on  yon  tree, 
And  lat  her  hang  there  for  the  poysoning  o'  me.' 

A  selection  of  versions  entitled  Lord  Randal  is  in  Child's  Ballads,  1882,  i.  iji. 
The  legend  is  dispersed  over  the  continent  of  Europe,,  and  Child  states  that  it 
is  current  in  German,  Dutch,  Magyar,  Sclavonic,  Italian  and  other  languages. 
Burns  refers  to  the  tune  as  follows :  '  This  air,  a  very  favourite  one  in 
Ayrshire,  is  evidently  the  original  of  Lochaber : '  (Interleaved  Museum}.  The 
air  Lord  Ronald  is  derived  from  Lochaber,  which  in  its  turn  comes  from  King 
James  March  in  Ireland,  appearing  for  the  first  time  in  Leyden's  MS.  1692, 
and  again  in  Atkinson's  MS.  1694.  The  tune  obtained  the  title  Lochaber 
for  the  first  time  from  Ramsay's  well-known  song  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany, 
1724,  and  the  music  is  in  Craig's  Scots  Tunes,  1730,  26 ;  the  Orpheus 
Caledonius,  1733,  No.  20  ;  and  later  collections.  The  three  melodies  differ  in 
detail  from  one  another,  and  the  assumption  that  the  King  James  March  is  de 
facto  the  original  is  founded  on  its  prior  appearance ;  but  the  Lord  Ronald  air 
in  the  text  which  Burns  communicated  to  Johnson's  Museum,  having  only  one 


492  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

movement,  and  the  others  being  double  tunes,  goes  to  confirm  the  theory  of 
Burns  that  the  simpler  air,  although  last  printed,  may  be  the  earliest  of  the 
three. 

*No.  342.  As  I  went  out  ae  May  morning.  Originally  published  in  the 
Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792,  No.  397,  from  Burns's  MS.  now  in  the  British 
Museum.  The  verses  in  a  large  measure  are  his  work.  '  The  words  and  music 
of  this  old  ballad  were  communicated  to  Johnson  by  Burns  in  the  poet's  hand- 
writing ' :  (Stenhouse  Illust,  jjcj~).  A  short  fragment  is  in  the  Herd  MS. ;  and 
three  stanzas  in  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  6,  with  only  a  trace  of  the  Bums 
version,  ends  thus : — 

'  I  hae  nae  houses,  I  hae  nae  land, 

I  hae  nae  gowd  or  fee,  Sir; 
I  am  o'er  low  to  be  your  bryde 

Your  lown  I'll  never  be,  Sir.' 

The  ballad  is  related  to  {  As  I  came  down  by  yon  castle  wa',  No.  340,  which  see. 
The  tune  is  somewhat  irregular  in  construction  and  chiefly  in  the  major  mode, 
closing  on  the  relative  minor,  not  an  unfrequent  disposition  of  Scottish  melody. 

*No.  343.  There  was  a  battle  in  the  north.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  346,  entitled  « Geordie,  an  old  ballad.'  On  the  MS.  of  A  Country 
lass  in  the  British  Museum  Burns  wrote  the  following  note  concerning  the 
ballad  now  under  consideration :  '  Put  likewise  after  this  song  the  inclosed  old 
ballad,  as  it  sings  to  the  same  tune.  It  is  rather  too  long,  but  it  is  very  pretty, 
and  never  that  I  know  of  was  printed  before.'  A  later  version  is  in  Kinloch's 
Ballads,  1827, 192,  with  the  following  chorus : — 

'My  Geordie  O,  my  Geordie  O, 

O,  the  love  I  bear  to  Geordie; 
The  very  stars  in  the  firmament 

Bear  tokens  I  lo'e  Geordie.' 

Several  versions  of  the  same  kind  are  in  Child's  Ballads,  1890,  iv.  123, 
but  the  Burns  contribution  is  a  complete  tale.  According  to  Kinloch,  Geordie 
was  George  Gordon,  fourth  Earl  of  Huntley  whom  the  Queen  Regent  sent  on 
an  expedition  into  the  Highlands  to  arrest  a  robber.  Having  failed  in  his 
mission,  he  was  suspected  of  complicity  with  the  marauders,  and  put  into  prison, 
but  released  on  a  money  payment.  But  the  ballad  fits  George,  fifth  Earl  of 
Huntley,  still  better.  He  was  apprehended  for  treason  on  Februarys,  1562-3, 
his  estates  forfeited,  and  he  was  sentenced  for  execution.  The  latter  part  of  the 
sentence  was  delayed,  and  he  remained  a  prisoner  in  Dunbar  Castle  until 
August,  1565,  when  he  was  restored  to  favour  by  Queen  Mary  who  made  him 
Chancellor  in  1566.  After  several  changes  of 'fortune  he  died  in  1576,  when 
James  was  king. 

Ritson,  in  the  Northumberland  Garland,  1793,  /?,  printed  'A  lamentable 
Ditty  '  to  a  delicate  Scottish  Tune  on  George  Stoole,  a  horse  stealer,  who  lived 
in  Newcastle.  The  original  broadside  was  printed  by  Henry  Gosson,  c.  1630, 
and  the  legend  does  not  differ  materially  from  Geordie  and  the  other  variants 
'  The  laird  of  Gight,'  '  George  Lukely,'  &c.,  in  the  ballad  collections. 

The  tune  was  recovered  by  Burns.  A  close  copy  entitled  Oscar's  ghost  is  in 
Corri's  Scots  Songs,  1783,  ii.  21. 

*No.  344.  O,  I  forbid  you  maidens  a'.  From  Burns's  MS.  in  the  British 
Museum,  collated  with  the  original  publication  entitled  7'am  Lin  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  411.  Stenhouse  first  connected  Burns  with  the 
publication  as  follows :  « The  ballad  in  the  Museum,  as  well  as  the  original 
air,  were  communicated  by  Burns,  in  his  handwriting,  to  the  editor  of  that 
work ' :  (Illust.  p.  770).  A  fragment  of  forty  lines,  differing  considerably  from 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  493 

Tarn  Lin,  and  not  even  naming  him,  was  previously  printed  in  Herd's  Scots 
Songs,  1769,^00,  under  the  title  of  Kertonha'  ;  or  the  fairy  Court.    It  begins : — 

'  She 's  prickt  hersell  and  prin'd  hersell 

By  the  ae  light  o'  the  moon, 
And  she's  awa  to  Kertonha' 

As  fast  as  she  can  gang. 
'  What  gars  ye  pu'  the  rose,  Jennet  ? 

What  gars  ye  break  the  tree? 
What  gars  ye  gang  to  Kertonha' 

Without  the  leave  o'  me?' 

Few  of  our  ballads  have  earlier  or  more  historical  references.  The  tale  of  the 
young  Tamlene,  and  a  dance  Thorn  of  Lyn  are  named  in  the  Complaynt  of 
Scotland,  1549.  In  1558  a  licence  to  print  A  ballet  of  Thonialyn  was  granted 
to  Master  John  Wallye  and  Mistress  Toye,  but  no  copy  is  known.  Drayton, 
in  Nymphidia,  or  the  Cotirt  of  Fairy,  1627,  introduces  Oberon  king  of  the 
fairies  and  Tomalin,  his  relation,  as  fighting  with  Tom  Thumb.  The  Queen 
having  given  to  both  combatants  a  cup  of  Lethe  water ;  this  occurs  :— 

/Tom  Thumb  had  got  a  little  sup, 
And  Tomalin  scarce  kiss'd  the  cup, 
Yet  had  their  brains  so  sure  lock'd  up 
That  they  remembered  nothing.' 

The  popularity  of  Tom  Lin  caused  it  to  be  parodied,  for  in  Wager's  Commedia, 

c-  I575»  we  have: — 

'  Tom  a  lin  and  his  wife,  and  wife's  mother, 
They  went  over  a  bridge  all  three  together, 
The  bridge  was  broken,  and  they  fell  in, — 
"The  devil  go  with  all,"  quoth  Tom-a-lin.' 

a  further  development  occurs  in  the  modern  song — '  Tommy  Lin  is  a  Scotchman 
born.'     In  Forbes's  Cantus,  1666,  is  a  reminiscence  of  the  ballad,  thus: — 

'  The  pyper's  drone  was  out  of  tune, 

Sing,  Young  Thomlin  : 
Be  merrie,  be  merrie,  and  twice  so  merrie, 

With  the  light  of  the  moon.' 

These  verses  were  interpolated  about  1620  into  Wood's  Musical  MS.  of  the 
sixteenth  century. 

For  the  long  period  of  nearly  250  years,  between  the  first  notice  in  the 
Complaynt  of  Scotland,  1549,  and  1796,  when  Burns's  original  version  was 
published,  nothing  was  known,  except  by  oral  tradition,  of  the  story  of  Tarn 
Lin.  The  few  stanzas  in  Herd's  collection  do  not  even  name  the  hero ;  and 
the  corrupted  Kertonha',  and  the  omission  of  Milescross  tend  to  conceal  any 
connexion.  At  what  time  Tarn  Lin  of  the  text  was  composed  must  be  left  to 
the  imagination,  and  from  its  character  it  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  its  kind.  It  is 
specifically  Scottish,  no  counterpart  of  it  is  known  abroad  and  no  legend  outside 
of  the  island  has  been  discovered.  The  earliest  copy  is  in  the  Glenriddell  MS. 
1789,  and  again  in  1791.  Burns  went  to  Ellisland  in  the  summer  of  1788,  and 
immediately  formed  a  close  friendship  with  Robert  Riddell  of  Glenriddell,  a 
noted  and  enthusiastic  antiquarian.  I  have  not  ascertained  whether  Burns 
communicated  to  Riddell  the  ballad  of  Tarn  Lin,  or  vice  versa.  The  fact  that 
the  Museum  copy  was  not  in  print  before  1796  goes  for  nothing,  because  many 
of  Burns's  songs  sent  before  1789  to  Johnson  were  not  published  until  1796  and 
1803.  Professor  Child  remarks  that  both  Burns  and  Riddell  may  have  obtained 
the  ballad  from  the  same  source.  The  first  twenty-two  stanzas  of  Glenriddell's 
copy  differ  from  the  corresponding  Burns  (one  to  twenty-three,  omitting  stanza 
sixteen)  by  only  a  few  words ;  after  that  there  are  considerable  verbal  differences, 


494  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

including  two  stanzas  in  Burns  entirely  new.  These  are  the  .eight  lines 
beginning — 

'  Gloomy,  gloomy  was  the  night,' 

The  ballad  has  been  often  reprinted  :  Mat  Lewis,  in  Tales  of  Wonder,  altered 
Burns ;  and  Sir  Walter  Scott's  version  is  compounded  of  the  Museum,  Riddell, 
and  Herd  copies,  with  several  recitals  from  tradition.  Scott  subsequently  ex- 
punged some  modern  additions  which  he  previously  had  made.  The  minute 
differences  in  the  various  versions  can  be  seen  in  Child's  Ballads,  1 884,  No.  ^9. 
The  scene  of  Tarn  Lin's  adventures,  Carterhaugh,  on  the  river  Ettrick  near  its 
junction  with  the  Yarrow,  is  the  centre  of  Scottish  ballad  minstrelsy.  The 
belief  in  Elves  and  Elf-land  permeated  the  whole  Teutonic  race,  and  furnishes 
a  large  selection  of  interesting  tales  of  the  unsubstantial  beings  antagonistic 
to  the  human  family.  At  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century  three  rings  on 
Carterhaugh  were  shown  where  it  is  said  the  milk  cans  of  the  fairies  stood  and 
upon  which  grass  never  grew. 

The  tune  named  in  the  Complaynt  has  not  been  identified,  if  it  now  exists. 
That  in  the  text  was  communicated  by  Burns,  and  is  not  found  in  any  earlier 
collection.  Leyden,  in  the  Preliminary  to  the  Complaynt  of  Scotland,  1801, 
274,  states  that  the  tune  of  Tamlene  is  extremely  similar  to  that  of  The  Jew's 
daughter.  The  present  air  does  not  resemble  Thejeinfs  daughter  in  Rimbault's 
Musical  R cliques,  1850,  46,  taken  from  Smith's  Musica  Antigua  from  tradition, 
and  it  will  not  fit  the  rhythm  of  any  of  the  known  versions  of  Tarn  Lin. 

*  No.  345.  Aften  hae  I  play'd  at  the  cards  and  the  dice.    Scots  Musical 
Museum,  1796,  No.  462.    The  original  MS.  of  Burns  is  in  the  British  Museum. 
Stenhouse  states  that  Burns  sent  the  air  with  the  verses  to  the  editor  of  the 
Museum,  and  Scott-Douglas  conjectures  that  the  ballad  was  picked  up  in  the 
Highlands  during  his  tour  with  Nicol.     Since  that  time  it  has  been  known  as 
The  bonie  rantin  laddie,  Lord  Aboyne,  &c.     Another  set  of  the  verses  is  in 
The  Thistle,  1823,  7 ;  and  the  two  lines  in  brackets  in  the  eighth  stanza  of  the 
text  are  taken  from  that  work  to  complete  the  hiatus  in  Burns.    See  Child's 
Ballads,  1892,  iv.  No.  240. 

According  to  Buchan,  who  printed  a  poor  version,  the  hero  was  Viscount 
Aboyne,  ultimately  created  Earl  in  1661.  He  appears  to  have  married  the 
daughter  of  the  Laird  of  Drum  (see  above,  No.  340],  but  whether  the  plebian 
Maggy  Coutts  was  the  mother  I  have  not  ascertained. 

The  tune  was  afterwards  printed  in  Gow's  Repository,  1802,  under  the  title 
Lord  Aboyne.  The  melody  is  captivatingy  and  a  distinct  acquisition  to  the  folk 
music  of  Scotland.  There  is  a  tune  entitled  Rantin  ladie  in  Guthrie's  MS.  c. 
1670,  but  I  have  no  account  of  it. 

*No.  346.  Our  young  lady's  a  huntin  gane.  From  Burns's  MS. 
in  the  British  Museum  compared  with  the  original  publication  in  the  Scots 
Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  424.  Stenhouse,  in  Illustrations,  p.  J79,  states 
that  '  This  ancient  fragment,  with  its  original  air,  were  recovered  by  Burns.'  The 
'lords'  of  the  ballad  were  the  noble  Maxwells,  whose  castle  of  Terreagles 
stood  on  the  banks  of  the  Nith  near  its  confluence  with  the  Cluden.  Burns 
knew  Lady  Winnifred,  the  representative  of  the  house,  to  whom  he  sent  copies 
of  some  of  his  Jacobite  songs.  No  exact  prototype  of  the  present  ballad  is 
known.  Stenhouse  erred  when,  he  stated  that  the  melody  was  recovered  by 
Burns.  As  a  North  Highland  Air  it  is  in  McDonald's  Airs,  \  784,  No.  jj, 
entitled  My  love  is  fixed  on  Donald. 

*  No.  347.  '  O,  for  my  ain  king,'  quo*  gude  "Wallace.    From  a  holograph 
in  the  British  Museum,  compared  with  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 796,  No.  484. 
Stenhouse  stated  in  Illustrations,  p.  426,  that  he  was  in  possession  of  the  manu- 
script at  the  time  he  wrote.    The  incidents  related  in  the  ballad  are  derived  from 
an  Edinburgh  Chap-book  about  1745,  entitled  On  an  honourable  achievement  of 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS  495 

Sir  William  Wallace,  near  Falkirk,  containing  some  constructive  and  many 
verbal  alterations,  and  in  a  different  metre  from  that  of  our  text.  The  source 
of  the  tale  is  in  Henry  the  Minstrel's  Wallace,  close  of  book  five  (edition,  1869, 
99).  Burns's  version  and  that  of  the  Chap-book  curiously  enough  are  almost 
the  only  existing  specimens  of  numerous  popular  songs  on  Wallace  once  current 
in  Scotland.  Wynton,  born  about  fifty  years  after  Wallace  was  executed,  records 
that  the  exploits  of  Wallace  were  celebrated  in  popular-  song  which  in  his  day 
were  traditionary.  He  says  (modernized) 

'  Of  his  good  deeds  and  manhood 
Great  gestes  I  heard  say  are  made ; 
But  so  many  I  trow  nought 
As  he  into  his  days  wrought.' 

Bower,  the  historian,  about  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  says  that  after  the 
battle  of  Roslyn,  Wallace  went  to  France,  and  distinguished  himself  in  suppressing 
piracy  and  the  English  on  the  continent,  as  ballads  both  in  France  and  Scotland 
testify.  The  mythical  and  other  astounding  deeds  of  Wallace  were  orally 
evident  in  the  time  of  Henry  the  Minstrel,  circa  1470,  and  the  inevitable  fate 
of  popularity  is  furnished  in  a  parody  of  two  fragments  in  Constable  s  MS.  t>f 
the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  : — 

'  Now  will  ye  hear  a  jollie  gest, 
How  Robin  Hood  was  pope  of  Rome 
And  Wallace  king  of  France. 


Wallace  parted  his  men  in  three 
And  sindrie  gaits  are  gane.' 

Bishop  Nicolson,  1696,  says  that  Wallace  had  his  exploits  recorded  by  several 
hands.  (Burton's  Scotland,  chap,  xx.)  An  English  ballad,  written  in  the  autumn 
of  1306,  contains  some  interesting  particulars  about  Wallace  and  his  friend 
Simon  Eraser,  and  is  curious,  as  repeating  the  nickname  of  Edward : — 

<  Tprot  Scot,  for  thi  strif 
Hang  up  thyn  hatchet  and  thi  knyf 
Whil  him  lasteth  the  lyf 

With  the  longe  shonkes'     (Ritson's  Anc.  Bal.  1790.) 

The  active  public  career  of  Wallace  in  Scotland  may  be  counted  by  months  in 
the  years  129^7-8.  He  has  been  designated  by  the  Scots  an  heroic  patriot,  and 
by  his  enemies  as  a  pestilent  ruffian.  Edward  decapitated  Wallace  on  August 
23,  1305,  and  fixed  his  head  on  London  Bridge.  To  quench  his  wounded  vanity 
or  pride,  PIdward  paid  unpardonable  honour  to  the  memory  of  his  implacable 
enemy  by  ferociously  cutting  his  dead  body  in  pieces  for  public  exhibition  in 
different  parts  of  the  two  countries. 

The  verses  in  the  text  are  virtually  those  of  all  the  recent  ballads  preserved, 
e.  g.  Finlay's  Ballads,  1807,1.97;  Maidment's  Scotish  Ballads,  1859,  8j,  and 
others;  and  the  reader  may  be  referred  to  Child's  Ballads,  1889,  No.  7/7,  for 
further  information.  The  incidents  partake  of  the  marvellous'  and  mythical. 
Wallace,  meeting  a  *  gay  ladye '  washing  at  the  well,  is  told  that  there  are  fifteen 
men  in  '  yon  wee  ostler  house '  who  are  seeking  Wallace,  who,  disguising  himself 
as  an  '  auld  crookit  carl '  leaning  on  a  stick,  presents  himself  to  the  officer 
disguised  in  liquor,  who,  after  insulting  Wallace,  announces  that  he  will  give 
fifteen  shillings  to  any  '  crookit  carl '  who  will  tell  him  where  Wallace  is.  The 
hero  replies  by  breaking  the  officer's  jaw  and  sticking  the  rest  at  the  table  where 
they  sat.  Another  fifteen  appeared  at  the  gate,  and  with  the  help  of  the  host 
he  killed  these  also. 

The  tune  is  only  interesting  as  an  archaic  example  of  a  melody  gathered  from 
the  ruins  of  time.  Two  melodies,  Wallace  s  March  and  Wallace's  Lament^  are 


496 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


in  the  Caledonian  Pocket  Companion,  c.  1755,  but  neither  has  any  resemblance 
to  Gude  Wallace  in  the  text. 

[The  four  numbers  following  were  sent  by  Burns  in  a  letter  to  his  friend 
William  Tytler  of  Woodhouslee,  as  '  a  sample  of  old  pieces '  of  which  he  said : 
'  I  had  once  a  great  many  of  these  fragments  and  some  of  them  here  entire  ; 
but  as  I  had  no  idea  that  anybody  cared  for  them,  I  have  forgotten  them.' 
Burns  here,  as  elsewhere,  indicated  how  little  he  was  affected  by  the  historical 
or  narrative  ballad,  and  he  paid  little  attention  to  the  metrical  tales  which 
Percy  and  Ritson  edited — a  subject  so  much  developed  a  little  later  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott.  The  budget  collected  by  Tytler  was  subsequently  utilized  by  Scott, 
Jamieson,  Motherwell,  and  others.  The  four  fragments  of  Burns  are  here 
reprinted  from  the  text  of  Cromek,  the  originals  from  Tytler  being  missing.] 

*No.  348.  Near  Edinburgh  was  a  young  son  born.  Cromek's  Scotish 
Songs,  1810,  ii.  204,  entitled  '  Young  f/ynhorn,  to  its  own  tune.'  This  is  the 
earliest  version  of  a  vernacular  ballad  founded  on  the  most  ancient  metrical  tale 
connected  with  the  South  of  Scotland  or  the  kingdom  of  Northumberland. 
WThether  Burns  added  anything  of  his  own  when  he  sent  the  fragment  to  Tytler 
in  1787  is  immaterial  from  a  literary  point  of  view,  but  at  any  rate  he  was  the 
first  to  discover  the  popular  version.  The  tale  exists  in  three  English  and  three 
French  MSS.  of  the  thirteenth  century,  all  more  or  less  differing  in  detail  from 
one  another.  A  seventh  version  in  one  of  the  Auchinleck  MSS.  is  a  Northumber- 
land legend  in  Scottish  orthography,  of  which  the  following  is  an  outline : — 
Hutheolf,  king  of  Northumbria,  fought  and  defeated  the  invading  Danes  on 
'  Allerton  more '  in  Cleveland,  gave  a  feast  at  Pickering,  afterwards  went  to 
York  and  proclaimed  his  son  Horn  his  successor.  Nine  months  later,  three 
Irish  kings  with  an  army  invaded  his  country,  his  forces  were  victorious,  but 
Hutheolf  was  slain.  Taking  advantage  of  Horn's  youth  and  inexperience,  an 
'  erl  of  Northumbria '  seized  the  kingdom,  and  compelled  Horn  to  fly '  fer  South 
in  Inglon.d '  to  the  court  of  king  Houlac,  who  educated  him  for  apparently  the 
space  of  seven  years.  His  beauty  fascinated  the  king's  daughter  Rimineld,  but 
the  father  was  obdurate  and  offensive,  and  Horn  fled  under  an  assumed  name  ; 
not  however  before  receiving  a  gold  ring  from  Rimineld,  which  she  said  would 
change  its  colour  when  she  became  unfaithful  to  his  memory.  Seven  years 
afterwards  when  sailing  the  seas,  or  on  Sarascenic  land  fighting  the  infidels, 
the  ring  of  priceless  virtue  and  value  '  grew  pale  and  wan,'  and  compelled  him 
to  come  back  :  meeting  a  palmer  he  exchanged  dresses,  and  in  this  disguise  was 
hospitably  received  by  King  Houlac.  Rimineld  served  the  guests  with  wine, 
and  when  she  came  to  the  palmer  he  dropped  into  the  cup  the  ring  which  she 
recognized.  In  due  time  she  discovered  her  long  lost  lover,  to  whom  she  related 
her  unwilling  betrothal  to  a  knight  of  her  father's  choice.  Horn,  having 
recovered  his  kingdom  of  Northumbria,  was  wedded  to  Rimineld  with  Houlac 's 
consent,  '  and  they  all  lived  happily  ever  after.' 

Chaucer  refers  as  follows  to  this  tale  in  '  the  second  fit '  of  his  satirical  ballad 
'SirThopas':— 

'  Men  speke  of  romances  of  prys, 

Of  Horn  child  and  of  Ypotys, 
Of  Bevis  and  Sir  Gy, 

Of  Sir  Libeux  and  Pleyn-damour, 

But  Sir  Thopas,  he  bereth  the  flour 

Of  loyal  chivalry.'  (Skeat's  Chaucer,  iv.  196.) 

The  verses  in  the  text,  like  those  of  Tarn  Lin,  are  remarkable  examples  of  the 
vitality  of  popular  poetry.  Burns  could  not  possibly  have  got  the  ballad  in  a 
modern  Scottish  dress  except  from  tradition,  for  the  metrical  tale  of  King  Horn 
had  not  then  been  printed,  and  was  not  known  except  to  a  very  few  literary 
antiquarians.  Until  1827,  when  Motherwell  published  the  'complete'  ballad 
made  up  from  the  Burns  version  and  « from  recitation,'  nothing  but  the  Burns 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


497 


was  in  print.  In  Kinloch's  Scottish  Ballads,  1827,  /;/,  is  the  most  complete 
version.  One  of  the  imaginative  editors  closes  with  the  following: — 

'  He  stood  up  erect,  let  his  beggar  weed  fall, 
And  shone  there  the  foremost  and  noblest  of  all ; 
Then  the  bridegrooms  were  chang'd-and  the  lady  re-wed 
To  Hynde  Horn  thus  come  back,  like  one  from  the  dead.' 

A  complete  analysis  of  Young  Hyn  Horn  will  be  found  in  Child's  Ballads, 
1882,  i.  No.  27.  The  legend  of  King  Horn  is  known  in  all  European 
countries. 

I  have  failed  to  discover  in  any  English  or  Scottish  collection  of  music  the 
tune  .of  Hynd  Horn,  and  the  music  in  the  text  is  taken  from  Motherwell's 
Minstrelsy,  1827,  App.  No.  ijt  which  there  is  said  to  be  the  traditional  air  of 
the  ballad. 

*No.  349.  What  merriment  has  taen  the  Whigs?  From  Burns's  MS. 
in  the  British  Museum,  entitled  The  German  lairdie,  which  is  referred  to  in 
Gray's  MS.  Lists.  The  verses  were  sent  to  Johnson,  but  were  not  inserted 
in  his  Museum.  In  Hogg's  Jacobite  Relics ,  1819,  i.  146,  is  a  song  of  twelve 
stanzas,  without  a  chorus,  beginning : — 

'  What  murrain  now  has  taen  the  Whigs  ? 

I  think  they're  all  gone  mad,  Sir, 
By  dancing  one-and-forty  jigs, 
Our  dancing  may  be  bad^  Sir.' 

The  second  stanza  is  a  variation  of  that  of  Burns,  but  neither  is  an  improve- 
ment. The  Ettrick  Shepherd  obtained  his  verses  from  the  collection  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott.  The  present  well-known  popular  song  The  wee,  wee  German 
lairdie,  partly  if  not  entirely  written  by  Allan  Cunningham  for  Cromek's 
spurious  antique  Nithsdale  and  Galloway  Songs,  1810,  has  no  resemblance  to 
Burns's  words,  which  are  probably  the  remnant  of  Jacobite  verses.  The  tune 
from  the  MS.  of  Burns,  now  in  the  possession  of  John  Adam  son,  Esq.,  of  Brook- 
lands,  Dumfries,  is  not  in  any  printed  collection,  is  quite  unknown,  and  is  now 
printed  for  the  first  time.  The  music  in  the  MS.  is  obviously  imperfect,  and 
wants  two  bars  in  each  of  the  two  sections  to  complete  the  rhythm.  These 
I  have  added  by  repeating  the  fifth  bar  and  doubling  the  measure  of  the  sixth 
in  each  of  the  two  sections. 

*No.  350.  O,  that  I  were  where  Helen  lies.  Scots  Musical  Museum, 
1788,  ii.  No.  i//,  from  Burns's  MS.  now  in  the  British  Museum.  Hitherto  Burns's 
name  has  not  been  coupled  with  this  well-known  ballad,  and  his  connexion 
with  its  appearance  in  literature  may  properly  be  described  here.  Writing  to 
George  Thomson  in  July,  1793,  he  says:  'The  old  ballad,  "I  wish  I  were 
where  Helen  lies,"  is  silly  to  contemptibility.  My  alteration  in  Johnson  is  not 
much  better.  Mr.  Pinkerton,  in  his  what  he  calls  Ancient  Ballads,  has  the  best 
set.  It  is  full  of  his  own  interpolations.' 

The  earliest  notice  is  the  title  of  an  air  Where  Helen  lies,  in  lute  tablature 
in  Blaikie's  MS.,  1692,  without  words.  The  music  fits  the  verses  in  the  text, 
and  incidentally  confirms  the  existence  of  the  ballad  in  its  present  rhythm  before 
the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

The  ballad,  or  at  least  the  melody,  was  known  to  Allan  Ramsay,  who  wrote 

for  it  a  song  entitled,  '  To  in  mourning*  beginning,  'Ah!  why  those 

tears  in  Nelly's  eyes,'  printed  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  I724-  The  verses 
were  in  honour  of  one  of  Ramsay's  patrons,  and  have  nothing  in  common  with 
the  legend  of  the  tragic  ballad,  which  ,was  told  by  Pennant  in  Tour  of 
Scotland,  1774,  <^»  °ften  reprinted,  and  too  well  known  to  require  repetition. 
The  'ballad'  was  not  quoted  by  Pennant,  but  in  '  Poetical  Legends  [John  Tait] 
London  :  printed  and  sold  by  John  Donaldson,  1776,'  is  the  original  publication 
in  thirteen  stanzas.  Tait,  the  editor,  takes  care  to  state  that  he  collected  it 

Kk. 


498 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


before  Pennant's  Tour  was  published.  Pinkerton's  version  in  six  stanzas 
referred  to  by  Burns  is  in  Tragic  Ballads,  1781,  79,  and  it  is  in  the  same 
yicorrect  metre  as  Ramsay's  verses,  the  last  stanza  of  which  is  : — 

'  Take,  take  me  to  thy  lovely  side, 
Of  my  lost  youth,  thou  only  bride ! 

0  take  me  to  thy  tomb! 

I  hear,  I  hear  the  welcome  sound, 
Yes,  life  can  fly  at  sorrow's  wound, 

1  come,  I  come,  I  come.' 

In  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  July,  1783,  there  are  four  stanzas— quoted  by 
Ritson — written  by  '  Thomas  Poynter,  a  pauper,'  the  first  being  : — 

'  T'  other  day  as  she  worked  at  her  wheel, 

She  sang  of  fair  Eleanor's  fate, 
Who  fell  by  stern  jealousy's  steel 

As  on  Kirtle's  smooth  margin  she  sate.' 

The  next  publication  in  order  of  time  is  that  of  Bums  in  the  text,  to  which 
I  will  refer  farther  on. 

In  Lawrie's  Scottish  Songs,  1 791 ,  i.  .2/7,  there  are  four  stanzas,  being  the  first, 
third,  sixth,  and  seventh  of  Burns. 

Ritson,  who  states  that  he  obtained  his  version  from  Tytler  the  historian 
(the  friend  and  correspondent  of  Burns),  printed  it  in  Scotish  Songs,  1794,  i.  146, 
as  the  first,  sixth,  and  seventh  verses  in  the  text,  with  a  fourth  made  up  from 
the  rest. 

In  Sinclair's  Stat.  Account  of  Scotland,  1794,  xiii.  2jj  (footnote),  is  a 
version  of  fourteen  stanzas,  chiefly  founded  on  that  of  the  Poetical  Legend 
version.  It  is  only  remarkable  for  an  interpolated  stanza  which  has  never 
been  reprinted.  A  note  supplementary  to  that  of  Pennant  states  that  the 
ballad  '  is  said  to  have  been  written  by  Adam  Fleming  when  in  Spain.' 

Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  Minstrelsy,  1802,  appropriated  almost  the  whole  of  the 
Statistical  version,  dividing  it  into  two  parts :  the  first,  consisting  of  six  stanzas 
(now  disregarded)  beginning,  '  O,  sweetest  sweet,  and  fairest  fair,'  and   the 
second  part  of  ten  stanzas  containing  the  whole  of  that  in  the  text,  with  the 
following  new  verse  which  Scott  got  from  the  Glenriddell  MS. : —   . 
'  As  I  went  down  the  water-side 
None  but  my  foe  to  be  my  guide ; 
None  but  my  foe  to  be  my  guide 
On  fair  Kirkconnel  Lee.' 

The  second  part  of  Scott's  version  is  that  which  is  now  reprinted  in  all 
modern  collections,  including  Child's  Ballads  and  Palgrave's  Golden  Treasury. 
In  the  Glenriddell  MS.,  1791,  or  three  years  subsequent  to  the  publication  in 
Johnson's  Museum,  is  a  version  of  sixteen  stanzas,  the  most  comprehensive 
discovered,  and  which  Riddell  states  that  he  got  from  '  Mr.  Henderson's  MS.' 
At  the  time  the  ballad  was  collected  Burns  was  on  terms  of  close  intimacy 
with  Riddell,  and  the   poet   may  have   been  instrumental   in   procuring  the 
version.     To  the  Poetical  Legends  of  1776  we  rmist  undoubtedly  return  for 
the  original  publication  ;  and  Burns's  version  agrees  closest  with  it.    The  eight 
stanzas  in  our  text  are  Nos.  13,  5,  8-12,  and  again  the  I3th  of  the  Legend 
copy  more  or  less  varied.     Of  Burns,  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  are  nearly 
identical ;   the  first,  sixth,  seventh,  and  eighth  contain  verbal  alterations  and 
amendments ;  and  the  second  is  considerably  varied  and  improved,  as  may  be 
seen  on  comparing  it  with  the  original,  as  follows  : — 
'  O  Helen  fair,  beyond  compare, 
I'll  wear  a  garland  of  thy  hair, 
Shall  cover  me  for  evermair, 
Until  the  day  I  die.' 


IX.     MISCELLANEOUS 


499 


The  tune  attached  to  the  ballad  in  Johnson's  Museum  is  a  masterpiece  of 
musical  dullness,  and  it  retarded  the  vocal  popularity  of  the  verses  for  more 
than  half  a  century.  The  music  in  Barsanti's  Scots  Tunes,  1742,  and  in 
McGibbon's  Scots  Tunes,  1768,  iv.  93,  is  evidently  a  remote  and  unsingable 
translation  of  the  tablature  tune  of  1692.  Where  Helen  lies  now  given  in  the 
text  is  from  Mr.  John  Glen,  who  favoured  me  with  a  copy.  Various  traditional 
melodies  of  the  ballad  are  in  use,  but  the  simplest  is  that  in  Graham's  Songs  of 
Scotland,  1849,  *"•  1O4" 

*JN"o.  351.  O,  heard  ye  of  a  silly  harper?  The  title  of  this  ballad  The 
Lochmaben  harper  is  in  Burns's  handwriting  in  Gray's  MS.  Lists  before  the 
year  1790,  as  an  instruction  for  the  insertion  of  the  verses  in  the  Scots  Musical 
Museum,  which  however  were  not  published  until  1803.  Several  songs  of 
Burns  named  on  the  same  sheet  were  not  published  in  the  Museum  before  1 796 
and  1803.  It  is  necessary  to  make  this  statement  because  Professor  Child  does 
not  appear  to  have  known  that  Burns  contributed  the  ballad  to  the  Museum, 
where  it  was  originally  published  with  its  melody,  and  because  very  nearly  the 
same  copy  is  in  the  Glenriddell  MS.  1791.  Burns's  connexion  with  Riddell  is 
described  in  the  note  on  No.  344  supra,  and  the  same  remark  is  applicable  to 
the  Lochmaben  harper  as  to  Tarn  Lin.  Stenhouse  says  :  '  This  fine  old  ballad 
with  its  original  melody  was  recovered  by  Burns  and  transmitted  to  Johnson 
for  his  Museum?  (lllust.,  p.  497).  The  manuscript  has  disappeared.  None  of 
the  original  Burns  papers  belonging  to  the  sixth  volume  of  the  Museum  are  in 
the  British  Museum.  They  seem  to  have  been  dispersed  in  Edinburgh  shortly 
after  publication,  and  some  have  not  yet  been  recovered.  The  Lochmaben 
harper  was  originally  published  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy,  1802,  considerably 
varied  and  altered,  but  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  Museum  MS.  was  in  Burns's 
handwriting.  The  last  unnecessary  stanza  in  Scott  is  a  modern  interpolation,  as 
follows : — 

'Then  aye  he  harped,  and  aye  he  carped, 

Sae  sweet  were  the  harpings  he  let  them  hear ; 
He  was  paid  for  the  foal  he  had  never  lost 

And  three  times  ower  for  the  gude  gray  mare.' 

Both  the  versions  of  Burns  and  of  Scott  can  be  seen  in  Child's  Ballads.  The 
Lochmaben  harper  is  an  excellent  humorous  specimen  of  Scottish  ballad 
literature,  and  is  notable  as  containing  one  of  the  very  few  references  to  the 
harp  in  Scotland.  Since  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  the  use  of  the  instru- 
ment has  ceased,  and  even  then  it  was  little  used.  The  harp  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots  is  said  to  be  preserved,  but  at  no  time  for  many  centuries  has  the  harp 
been  a  national  instrument.  Its  introduction  and  cultivation  were  Celtic. 

The  tune  in  the  text  is  from  the  Glenriddell  MS.  1791,  and,  with  the  exception 
of  a  clerical  error  in  the  MS.  here  corrected,  is  the  same  as  that  printed  in  the 
Museum,  No.  779,  with  the  verses. 

*N"o.  352.  Nae  birdies  sang  the  mirky  hour.  Cromek's  Scotish  Songs, 
1810,  ii.  196.  This  fragment  sent  to  Tytler  belongs  probably  to  more  than 
one  song,  and  refers  to  events  occurring  at  least  as  early  as  the  seventeenth 
century.  Sir  Walter  Scott  supposed  that  one  of  the  characters  might  be  John 
Scott,  the  sixth  son  of  the  Laird  of  Harden,  murdered  in  Ettrick  Forest  by  his 
kinsmen  the  Scotts  of  Gilmancleugh.  There  is  also  a  tradition  that  the  hero 
was  murdered  by  the  brother  either  of  his  wife  or  betrothed  bride.  The  first 
printed '  Yarrow '  verses  are  not  the  oldest.  From  some  tradition  similar  to  that 
in  the  text,  both  Ramsay  and  Hamilton  of  Bangour  wrote  ballads  with  almost 
the  same  opening  line  '  Busk  ye,  busk  ye,  my  bonny  bonny  bride ' ;  both 
published  in  the  Tea-Table  Miscellany,  1725.  Hamilton's  song  was  reprinted 
in  a  small  unauthorized  edition  of  his  Poems  in  1748,  remarkable  for  a  preface 
attributed  to  Adam  Smith,  the  celebrated  author  of  the  Wealth  of  Nations. 
The  well-known  '  Willy 's  rare  and  W7illy  's  fair '  was  first  printed  in  the  Orpheus 

K  k  2 


500  HISTORICAL    NOTES 

Caledonius,  1733,  No.  49.  The  subject  of  all  these  is  the  same  as  the  verses 
in  the  text,  but  there  is  no  verbal  or  metrical  connexion.  In  the  Herd  MS.  is 
a  variation  of  the  eighth  stanza  in  a  different  metre,  as  follows,  marked  for  the 
tune  Mary  Scott : — 

'O,  when  I  look  east,  my  heart  is  sair, 
But  when  I  look  west  it's  mair  and  mair; 
For  then  I  see  the  braes  of  Yarrow, 
And  there  I  lost  for  aye  my  marrow/ 

This  fragment  is  all  that  was  known  of  the  traditional  ballad  until  Burns  sent 
his  contribution  to  Tytler.  What  alteration  or  variation  he  made  it  is  now 
impossible  to  say. 

The  tune  Willy's  rare  was  first  printed  in  the  Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733, 
No.  49,  and  the  copy  there  is  that  now  printed  in  all  collections  of  Scottish 
song.  The  music  Sweet  Willy,  as  in  the  text,  is  a  translation  from  Blaikies 
MS.  1692,  and,  if  anything,  is  a  better  set  than  that  usually  printed. 

*No.  353.  Bob  Boy  from  the  Highlands  cam.  Cromek's  Scotish  Songs, 
1 8 10,  ii.  199.  It  is  stated  in  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  1827,  p.  xciii,  that  this 
ballad  first  appeared  in  The  Thistle,  1823,  which  of  course  is  incorrect.  In 
Maidment's  North  Countrie  Garland,  1824,  44,  there  is  a  complete  version 
from  the  MS.  of  R.  Pitcairn,  'who  took  it  from  the  recitation  of  Widow 
Stevenson.'  This  version,  like  that  of  Burns,  is  distributed  between  two  melodies, 
but  not  the  same  as  those  in  the  text.  Young  Rob  Roy,  son  of  the  celebrated 
cateran,  was  a  chip. of  the  old  block.  At  twelve  years  of  age  he  shot  a  man, 
and  was  outlawed,  fled  to  the  continent,  enlisted  in  the  British  army,  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner,  was  exchanged  and  returned  to  Scotland,  where  he 
married  a  respectable  woman  who  lived  only  a  few  weeks.  Thus  Professor  Child, 
in  Ballads,  1890,  iv.  No.  22;,  out  of  Maclaurin's  Criminal  Trials.  For  the  crime 
of  abducting  Jane  Key,  aged  19,  heiress  of  Edinbelly,  Stirlingshire,  and  com- 
pelling her  to  go  through  a  sham  marriage  ceremony,  Robert  Oig  was  tried, 
convicted,  and  executed  in  1753  at  the  age  of  thirty-one.  Abductions  of  various 
kinds  were  not  uncommon  in  Scotland,  and  illustrate  marriage  by  capture  as 
late  as  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  tune  is  that  of  Song  No.  266. 

*No.  354.  Bob  Boy  was  my  father  ca'd.  The  tune  in  the  text  was  known 
in  Scotland  up  to  the  year  1733  zs,  Jenny  beguiled  the  webster,  its  title  in  the 
Orpheus  Caledonius,  1733,  No.  37,  as  in  the  text.  It  is  so  named  for  a  song  in 
Ramsay's  Miscellany,  1725.  Afterwards  it  becomesjenny  dang  the  weaver,  as 
in  Bremner's  Reels,  1759, /</;  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  ij ;  Campbell's  Reels, 
1778,  sy,  and  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1788,  No.  227. 


APPENDIX. 

UNCERTAIN. 

*No.  355.  O,  Donald  Couper  and  his  man.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1 792, 
No.  334,  entitled  Donald  Cottper.  On  the  authority  of  Stenhouse  alone  this  is 
inserted  as  an  amended  fragment  by  Burns  from  Herd's  Scottish  Songs,  1776,  ii. 
229,  and  further  evidence  is  desirable.  The  verses  are  a  reminiscence  of  an 
English  ballad  printed  without  music  entitled  A  nosegay  of  pleasure  growing 
in  Venus' s  garden,  in  180  Loyal  Songs,  1685,  354,  marked  for  '  the  tune  Daniel 
Cooper?  and  beginning : — 

'  A  bony  lad  came  to  the  Court, 

His  name  was  Donald  Cowper; 
And  he  petitioned  to  the  king 
That  he  might  be  a  Trowper.' 


APPENDIX 


501 


The  tune  is  in  the  Dancing  Master,  1697,  an^  both  words  and  music  in 
Durfey's  Pills,  1719,.  v.  88.  The  hero  obviously  was  one  of  the  many  soldiers 
of  fortune  whom  Scotland  shed,  and  a  trooper  in  the  army  of  Montrose,  who 
was  executed  in  Edinburgh  in  1650.  The  licentious  and  satirical  ballad  relates 
the  adventures  of  Donald  in  London,  where  he  went  to  seek  his  fortune.  The 
music  was  sufficiently  well  known  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  writer  of  the 
Highland  Host,  1697,  where  it  is  named  as  a  dance  tune.  The  music  in  our 


text  (not  the  same  as  the  English  tune)  was  printed  originally  in  the  Museum. 
In  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  12,  is  a  much  corrupted  copy  of  that 


Pills. 


in  Durfey's 


*No.  356.  O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather.  The  only  excuse  for  insert- 
ing here  this  fine  song  is  the  fact  that  it  was  entirely  unknown  until  it  was 
printed  in  the  Scots  Mtisical  Museum,  1792,  No.  328,  from  Burns's  MS.  The 
explicit  account  of  the  authoress  by  Burns  in  the  Interleaved  Museum  forbids 
its  entrance  among  his  works.  How  much  or  how  little  is  his  own  cannot  be 
ascertained  ;  but  as  the  discoverer,  at  least,  he  will  always  be  associated  with  it. 
His  extraordinary  statement  is  as  follows :  *  This  song  is  the  composition  of  a 
Jean  Glover,  a  girl  who  was  not  only  a  w —  but  also  a  thief;  and  in  one  or 
other  character  has  visited  most  of  the  correction  houses  in  'the  west.  She  was 
born,  I  believe,  in  Kilmarnock.  I  took  the  song  down  from  her  singing  as  she 
was  strolling  the  country  with  a  slight-of-hand  blackguard.'  Some  previous 
verses  with  the  title  must  have  existed,  because  the  tune  O'er  the  muir  amang 
the  heather  is  in  Bremner's  Reels,  1 760,  77,  published,  according  to  C.  K.  Sharpe, 
when  Glover  was  only  two  years  old.  The  tune  was  well  known,  for  it  is 
repeated  in  Stewart's  Reels,  1761,  p  ;  Campbell's  Reels,  1778,  /?,  and  else- 
where. A  tune  We  II  all  go  pull  the  hadder  is  named  in  Gedde's  Saints 
Recreation,  1683. 

*No.  357.  As  I  lay  on  my  bed  on  a  night.    S-cots  Musical  Museum,  1803, 
No.  j8i.     Stenhouse  remarks :  '  This  fragment  of  an  ancient  ballad,  with  its 
melody,  was  recovered  by  Burns,  and  transmitted  to  Johnson  for  the  Museum.' 
(Illust.  p.  498.}     There  is  no  Burns  MS.  to  confirm  this  statement.     It  is  quite 
certain  that  Burns  knew  the  melody  Go  from  my  window,  love,  do,  for  when  he 
was  comparatively  young  he  wrote  for  it  one  of  his  earliest  songs  ;  see  No.  307. 
More  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago  a  popular  song  with  a  similar 
title  was  parodied  in  The  gude  and  godlie  Ballads,  and  the  imitation  begins : — 
'  Quho  is  at  my  windo?   quho,  quho? 
Go  from  my  windo,  go,  go! 
Quho  callis  thair  sa  lyke  a  strangair? 
Go  from  my  windo,  go.' 

(Reprint  Scottish  Text  Soc.} 

The  '  profane '  song  was  not  confined  to  Scotland,  for  there  were  several  versions 
and  at  least  two  different  melodies  of  the  song  current  in  England  for  nearly 
a  century.  In  1588  a  licence  was  granted  to  print  a  black-letter  ballad  Goe 
from  the  Window.  In  Beaumont's  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle,  1611, 
Old  Merrythought  sings : — 

'  Begone,  begone,  my  juggy,  my  puggy ; 
Begone,  my  love,  my  dear; 
The  weather  is  warm, 
'Twill  do  thee  no  harm, 
Thou  canst  not  be  lodged  here.' 

Different  songs  of  the  same  rhythm  were  sung  in  the  dramas  of  the  close  of  the 
sixteenth  and  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  centuries.  The  English  tune  '  Goe 
from  my  window '  is  in  A  new  book  of  Tablature,  1596  ;  and  as  follows  without 
words  in  the  Fitzwilliam  MS.  c.  1650  (1895,  i.  /y).  The  words  are  from 
Beaumont's  burlesque : — 


502 


HISTORICAL    NOTES 


Go  from  my  win-dow,  love,    go ; 


Go  from    my   win-dow,  my    dear ; 


The  wind  and  the  rain  will  drive  you  back  a-gain,  You  can-not  be  lodged  here. 
The  melody  is  repeated  on  page  42  of  the  same  collection  with  variations  by 
Thomas  Morley,  proving  its  popularity.     It  will  be  observed  that  this  English 
set  is  not  the  same  as  the  tune  in  the  text  originally  published  in  Johnson's 
Museum. 

*No.  358.  The  auld  man's  mare's  dead.  Johnson's  Museum,  1796, 
No.  48$.  In  a  letter  to  Johnson  about  March,  1795,  Burns  refers  to  this  song 
as  follows :  '  See  the  air  in  Aird's  Selection  and  the  words  in  the  Scots  Nightin- 
gale? The  song  is  such  an  excellent  specimen  of  the  Scots  vernacular,  with 
a  very  characteristic  Scottish  melody,  that  I  give  here  Burns's  recension  of  the 
verses,  and  the  melody.  He  rewrote  the  second  stanza,  and  verbally  altered 
the  rest.  The  author  of  the  original  is  stated  by  Allan  Ramsay  to  have  been 
Pate  Birney,  an  itinerant  fiddler  in  Fife  ;  but  the  verses  in  the  Scots  Nightingale, 
1779, 336,  are  stated  to  be  '  By  Mr.  Watt,'  and  the  earliest  record  of  the  tune  is 
in  Aird's  Airs,  1782,  ii.  No.  i;8.  From  these  two  facts  it  maybe  inferred  that 
the  song  referred  to  by  Ramsay  is  not  that  which  Burns  amended,  but  some 
earlier  and  now  unknown  song. 

*No.  359.  She  sat  down  below  a  thorn.  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1792, 
No.  320.  No  MS.  of  these  verses  is  known,  and  Stenhouse  is  the  authority  : 
'  This  ancient  and  beautiful  air  with  the  fragment  of  the  old  ballad  were  both 
transmitted  by  Burns  to  Johnson  for  the  Museum?  (Illust.  p. 308.}  A  smaller 
fragment  of  four  disconnected  stanzas  on  a  similar  subject,  but  more  obscure,  is 
in  Herd's  Scottish  SoiTgs,  1776,  ii.  .277.  Since  the  time  of  Burns  five  or  six 
different  and  expanded  versions  have  been  published.  Under  the  head  of  Lady 
Anne  it  is  in  Scott's  Minstrelsy,  1803,  iii.  2jp;  and  more  completely  as  The 
Cruel  Mother  in  Motherwell's  Minstrelsy,  1827,  161.  In  Child's  Ballads, 
1882,  No.  20,  the  whole  tale  is  evolved.  The  fragment  in  our  text  contains 
descriptive  touches,  but  there  is  no  means  of  ascertaining  what  is  original.  In 
one  of  the  recensions  the  child's  nurse  is  described  as  the  murderer.  A  Scottish 
Act  of  Parliament  in  1690  prescribed  that  a  mother  in  certain  circumstances 
was  guilty  of  murder  if  she  concealed  a  birth,  or  did  not  call  in  assistance  in 
child-bed.  The  chief  point  of  the  tale  is  dispersed  over  Europe. 

The  sweet  simple  tune  is  from  the  original  in  the  Museum.  Another  and 
inferior  melody  is  in  the  Appendix  to  Kinloch's  Ballads,  1827. 

*N"o.  360.  It 's  whisper'd  in  parlour.  This  is  the  fragment  of  a  ballad  here 
reprinted,  simply  because  Burns  was  the  medium  by  which  the  verses  and  the 
melody  were  originally  published  in  the  Scots  Musical  Museum,  1796,  No.  461. 
The  original  MS.  has  been  lost,  and  Stenhouse  is  the  authority,  as  follows  : 
'  This  fragment  of  an  ancient  song,  together  with  the  elegant  original  little  air 
of  one  strain,  to  which  the  words  are  adapted,  were  recovered  by  Burns.' 
(Illust.  p.  404^)  The  complete  tale — mad  and  revolting — in  Motherwell's 
Minstrelsy,  1727,  189,  describes  how  'Lady  Marget'  was  killed  by  her 
brother,  and  how — 

'  He  has  howkit  a  grave  that  was  lang  and  was  deep, 

The  broom  blooms  bonnie  and  says  it  is  fair, 
And  he  has  buried  his  sister  wi'  her  babie  at  her  feet, 
And  they'll  never  gang  down  to  the  broom  onie  mair.' 


APPENDIX 


503 


Sheath  and  Knife,  as  the  ballad  is  now  known  in  Child's  Ballads,  1882, 
No.  j6,  is  a  specimen  of  several  gruesome  metrical  tales  which  mark  antiquity, 
and  with  no  particular  locality  attached  to  them,  as  the  legends  are  dispersed 
throughout  PAirope. 

The  tune  is  rather  commonplace,  with  no  particular  Scottish  flavour. 

*No.  361.  A  nobleman  liv'd  in  a  village  of  late.  Scots  Mtisical  Museum, 
1792,  No.  372,  entitled  The  poor  thresher,  which  Burns  transmitted  to  the 
editor  with  the  following  note  :  '  It  is  rather  too  long,  but  it  is  very  pretty,  and 
never  that  I  know  of  was  printed  before.'  The  MS.  of  this  poor  sentimental 
ballad  in  the  handwriting  of  Burns  is  in  the  British  Museum,  and  it  appealed 
to  him  as  a  tiller  of  the  soil  out  of  which  he  could  not  extract  a  living.  In 
sixteen  stanzas  it  describes  the  work  and  life  of  an  honest  hardworking  peasant 
who,  when  out  walking,  casually  met  a  nobleman.  The  result  was  a  giit  of 
'  forty  good  acres  of  land,'  and  the  penultimate  stanza  is : — 

'Because  thou  art  loving  and  kind  to  thy  wife, 
I'll  make  thy  days  easy  the  rest  of  thy  life; 
I  give  it  for  ever  to  thee  and  thy  heirs, 
So  hold  thy  industry  with  diligent  cares.' 

The  luck  of  this  peasant  was  better  than  '  the  three  acres  and  a  cow '  of  the 
modern  politician.  I  have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  print  the  sixteen  stanzas 
of  the  original,  which  is  of  English  ancestry.  A  different  version  is  The  noble- 
man  and  the  thresherman  in  Bell's  Songs  of  the  Peasantry.  As  The  thresher 
and  the  squire  another  Oxford  traditional  set  of  verses  has  recently  been 
published  in  English  County  Songs,  1893,  68,  with  a  tune  quite  different  from 
that  in  our  text,  which  was  originally  published  in  the  Museum  with  the  verses 
of  Burns. 

SONGS  UNKNOWN, 

Cockabendy.  This  title  is  in  the  handwriting  of  Burns  in  Gray's  MS.  Lists 
with  the  note  '  Mr.  B —  words.' 

Wha  's  fou  now,  my  jo  is  in  the  same  list  marked  *  Mr.  B —  words.' 

Fair  Emma.  The  note  here  is  '  Fair  Emma  follows  Charlotte  a  song,  the 
original  name  unknown ' ;  with  the  remark  from  Burns's  hand  '  Mr.  B.  next, 
Dr.  B[lacklock].' 

Can  ye  leave  me  so,  laddie  ?  This  is  the  title,  with  the  note  in  Burns's 
handwriting  '  Mr.  Burns's  old  words,'  contained  in  Law's  MS.  List.  The 
following  fragment  in  Herd's  MS.  is  most  probably  the  material  on  which 
Burns  based  his  verses : — 

'  Can  ye  leave  me.  so,  laddie, 

Can  ye  leave  me  so; 
Can  ye  leave  me  comfortless 
For  anither  jo  ? ' 


GLOSSARY 


THE  Scottish  vernacular,  commonly  known  as  Broad  Scots,  is  the  direct 
descendant  of  Anglo-Saxon  or  Old  English,  with  a  mixture  of  Erse  from  the 
Highlands  and  a  sprinkling  of  French  due  to  the  close  political  and  social 
alliance  which  subsisted  between  Scotland  and  France  for  several  centuries. 
Most  old  native  Scottish  words  are  to  be  found  in  English  literature;  syne 
or  sine,  for  example,  so  well  known  with  a  more  intense  meaning  in  the 
present  day,  is  used  by  Chaucer  and  other  English  writers  before  his  time. 
All  the  evidence  of  comparative  philology  proves  that  the  people  of  the  North 
of  England  and  of  Central  and  Southern  Scotland  have  best  preserved  the 
ancient  tongue,  and  that  the  language  of  Wynton,  Barbour,  Henry  the  Minstrel, 
William  Dunbar,  Gavin  Douglas,  and  Lyndsay  is  the  same  (dialectal  varia- 
tions apart)  as  that  of  Robert  de  Brunne,  Hampole,  Chaucer,  and  Lydgate. 
The  Scottish  dialect  is  rich  in  vowel  sounds,  and  it  has  a  smoothness  and 
flexibility  which  adapts  itself  to  poetry  and  musical  expression.  Without 
taking  into  account  the  finer  shades,  there  are  at  least  twelve  different  vowel 
sounds  in  the  language  of  the  Songs  of  Burns,  and  some  of  these  have  no 
English  equivalent.  For  example,  the  open  a  is  a  much  favoured  substitute 
for  the  more  close  a,  which,  as  compared  with  a,  is  neglected  in  Scottish 
orthography.  It  is  remarkable  how  little  the  single  o  followed  by  a  con- 
sonant is  used  in  the  vernacular  of  Burns.  Except  in  the  combinations  such 
as  oo,  ou,  or  ow  the  absence  of  the  o  is  striking,  and  the  genius  of  the  language 
seems  to  avoid  it  as.  much  as  possible.  Decidedly  a  is  the  favourite  vowel. 
Another  peculiarity  is  the  elision  and  non-pronunciation  of  some  of  the  terminal 
consonants,  particularly  d  and  g.  The  Note  prefixed  to  the  Glossary  in  the  first 
edition  of  the  Works  of  Burns,  1786,  refers  only  to  the  terminations  in  zV/^and  ed. 
But  Burns  cancelled  this  Note,  and  the  following  orthoepic  instructions  appear 
in  all  the  later  editions  of  his  works  which  he  personally  revised  :  '  The  ch  and 
gh  have  always  the  guttural  sound.  The  sound  of  the  English  diphthong  oo  is 
commonly  spelled  OH.  The  French  u,  a  sound  which  often  occurs  in  the 
Scotch  language,  is  marked  oo,  or  ui.  The  a  in  genuine  Scotch  words,  except 
when  forming  a  diphthong  or  followed  by  an  e  mute  after  a  single  consonant, 
sounds  generally  like  the  broad  English  a  in  wall.  The  Scotch  diphthongs  ae 
always,  and  ea.  very  often,  sound  like  the  French  ^  masculine.  The  Scotch 
diphthong  ey  sounds  like  the  Latin  «'.'  Burns  wrote  for  the  Ayrshire  dialect, 
and  his  remarks  apply  to  that  district.  The  difficulty  of  symbolizing  the 
speaking  voice  is  obvious.  In  speech  the  quantity,  quality,  accent,  and  stress 
of  the  different  letters,  and  particularly  of  the  vowels,  form  a  combination 
difficult  to  convey  in  writing,  and  therefore  any  illustration  here  of  the  actual 
sounds  can  only  be  approximate.  Besides,  the  fact  that  no  two  persons  hear 
exactly  alike  complicates  matters  still  more.  Much  of  the  orthography  of  the 
so-called  Scotch  of  the  modern  school  of  fiction  is  unauthorized,  and  the  pro- 
nunciation is  probably  intended  for  the  outlander. 

The  following  short  and  imperfect  sketch  of  the  construction  and  pronuncia- 
tion of  the  dialect  of  Burns  is  submitted  with  diffidence  as  an  introduction 
to  those  who  are  not  familiar  with  the  subject; 

a,  a',  au,  aw,  like  a  in  wall,  are  as  bd ,  ca\  Ian ,  gaun,  bauld,  rauckle,  daut, 
jawpish  ;  the  long  a  in  words  with  an  e  mute,  as  in  bathe,  is  exemplified  in 
haine,  bane,  lane,  lave ;  and  the  diphthongs  at,  ay,  as  in  train,  are  exemplified 
in  maist,  naig,  craigie,  staig.  The  ae,  and  sometimes  ea,  like  the  £  in  French 
caft>  are  as  in  not,  brae,  wean,  teat,  healsome.  The  following  with  a  are  the 


GLOSSARY 


505 


corresponding  English  words  in  o ;  they  need  no  explanation,  and  are  excluded 
from  the  glossary  :  aff,  aft,  amang,  ance,  awe,  banes,  bannet,  craft,  crap,  craw, 
drap,  fae,  gane,  gat,  haly,  hame,  lang,  langer,  law,  nane,  na,  rade,  raw,  sab, 
soft,  sang,  saul,  shaw,  slae,  slaw,  snaw,  strang,  tae,  tap,  thraw,  thrang,  twa, 
wae,  wan,  warld,  ivarldly,  wat,  wha,  wham,  whase,  wrang. 

ea  and  <?,  with  a  short  sound  of  e  as  in  etch,  are  found  in  a  large  number  of 
words  for  which  it  is  difficult  to  give  a  rule;  these  for  example — brechan, 
hether  (heather),  hecht,  wecht,  heart.  Again  there  are  others  containing  the 
diphthong  and  such  further  combinations,  as  ee,  ee,  ei,  the  sound  of  which  nearly 
corresponds  to  the  English  in  heed,  such  as  bread,  breast,  swear,  head,  dread, 
beet,  wee,  e'e,  ne'er,  detp,  deil.  The  dialectic  ea  is  the  most  uncertain  of  the 
vocal  compounds,  as  it  is  in  English.  Hugh  Miller,  in  giving  evidence,  spoke 
of '  the  beer,  the  wulf,  and  the  baiver '  for  '  the  bear,  the  wolf,  and  the  beaver.' 

/and  y  in  such  words  as  clinkin,  belly s,  fyfteen  are  nearly  as  i  in  bit.  le, 
longer  than  the  long  sound  of  ea,  is  exemplified  in  skiegh,  prief,  rief,  pro- 
nounced nearly  as  the  English  field.  The  terminal  ie  is  often  a  diminutive,  and 
in  this  case  is  generally  a  term  of  endearment  or  of  derision.  The  Scottish 
vernacular  has  cumulative  diminutives  :  thus,  a  priest,  a  priestie,  a  wee  priestie, 
a  wee  bit  priestie,  which  latter  the  speaker  would  hold  in  very  little  esteem. 
lu,  as  in  French  relitire,  like  kiutle,  has  no  English  representative. 

0,  the  common  sound  in  folk,  is  in  fock,  bodle,  hog,  thorn  ;  and  o  and  oa,  as 
in  oak,  are  in  jo,  rozet,  gloamin.  Oe  and  ow  like  the  ou  in  our,  as  der,  overlay, 
dercome,  owsen,  rowte,  sowens,  bowk,  howk,  stowp.  The  discredited  o,  and 
sometimes  u,  is  changed  into  i,  as  in  brither,  mither,  anither,  simmer,  hiney. 

The  diphthongs  oo  and  eu  have  no  equivalent  sound  in  English ;  but  the  eu 
in  the  French  petir  are  represented  in  toom,  cootie,  deuk,  betik,  neuk.  U  and  ou 
are  as  oo  in  boot,  such  as  through,  clour,  stottre,  fou,fu\  mou\  pou,pu\  sough, 
drouth. 

There  are  two  sounds  of  u,  the  English  as  in  but,  found  in  dunt,  lunt,fud, 
cud,  lug,  rush,  push  ;  and  the  French  u  interchangeable  with  ui,  in  nul,  is  found 
in  puir,  pure,  gtiid,  gude,  muir,  ytile. 

The  long  y  with  the  terminal  e  mute  sounds  like  the  English  y  in  style,  as 
in  fiyte,  gyte,  belyye. 

The  zie  or  yie  interchangeable  is  pronounced  yee. 

B  is  rarely  sounded  after  m  :  thus  clamb,  lamb,  thimble,  timber,  chamber  are 
written  and  pronounced  clam,  lam,  thimle,  timmer,  chammer  or  chaumer. 

Initial  c  is  like  k  except  when  followed  by  h,  when  it  is  as  in  the  English 
chin,  as  chiel,  chirp,  chap,  chuckie ;  otherwise  ch  and  gh  are  gutturals  like  the 
German  ach,  and  both  pronounced  alike,  such  are  night,  nicht,  bright,  bricht, 
light,  licht,  sight,  sicht,  &c.  Nch,  rch,  tch  are  not  gutturals.  Of  the  double 
gutturals  leuch,  teuch,  spleuchan,  cranreuch  the  English  reader  must  imagine 
them.  Other  examples  of  c  are  given  below. 

D  is  generally  dropped  after  n,  as  in  thunner,  thunder ;  spynnle,  spindle ; 
an\  and ;  ban1,  bond  ;  lan\  land ;  grun,  ground  ;  and  before  g,  as  in  brig, 
bridge  ;  rig,  ridge  ;  paitrick,  partridge.  Th  is  substituted  for  d  in  such  words 
as  shout  her,  shoulder ;  pouther,  powder ;  rither,  rudder  ;  ether-,  adder. 

Initial  g  is  nearly  always  the  same  as  in  English.  It  is  usually  omitted  in 
writing  and  always  in  speaking  the  terminations  ing,  as  herrin,  stockin,  snorin, 
wattkin,  gangin.  Fashionable  society  at  present  imitates  the  Scottish  peasant 
in  dropping  the  final  g. 

If  is  never  misused  in  Scotland,  and  where  it  is  printed  it  is  sounded.  Htis 
(pronounced  huz)  for  us  is  perhaps,  says  Dr.  Murray,  '  the  only  Scotch  word 
which  aspirates  an  originally  simple  vowel ;  and  this  is  not  a  modern  cor- 
ruption but  an  ancient  form.'  Hit  for  it  is  still  used  sometimes.  H  with  c  and 
g  combines  to  form  the  large  collection  of  Scottish  gutturals. 

K  in  a  great  many  cases  represents  the  English  ch,  thus  birk,  kirk,  theik, 
kirn,  kist,  dyke,  maikless,  whilk  for  birch,  church,  thatch,  churn,  chest,  ditch, 


5o6 


GLOSSARY 


matchless,  which;  and  k  is  occasionally  substituted  for  h  as  in  skelf,  skriegh, 
for  shelf,  shriek. 

L  is  often  absent,  and  is  mute  after  a  and  u,  as  in  ba\  ca,  fa,  sma',  f^t\ 
pu1,  witha,  amaist  (almost),  &c.  It  changes  to  a,  ?u,  or  u  after  o  or  a  ;  and  is 
frequently  absent  before  another  consonant :  thus  bawm,  stown,  hause,  bouk, 
bow,  cow,  cauf,faut,fause,  goivd,  hauf,  maut  for  balm,  stolen,  hals  (the  neck), 
bulk,  boll,  coll,  calf,  fault,  false,  gold,  half,  malt ;  but  after  e  and  *',  /  is  written 
and  sounded,  as  for  example — 

'  That  ilka  melder  wi'  the  miller 
Thou  drank  as  lang  as  thou  had  siller? 

In  Scotland  the  nasals  are  severely  left  alone.  In  England  ng  in  the  middle 
of  a  word  is  more  than  sounded,  as  in  fing-ger,  ling-ger,  jing-gle,  ting-gle, 
Ang-gus.  In  the  Scots  vernacular  these  are  pronounced  fing'r,  ling'r,  jing'le, 
ting'le,  Ang-us.  Dr.  Murray  says  that '  the  Northern  tongue  has  a  repugnance 
to  the  combinations  of  the  nasals  m,  n,  ng  with  their  cognate  mutes  b,  d, 
and  £-.' 

R  is  neither  glided  nor  rolled.  It  is  hard  in  such  words  as  carle,  airle,parle, 
tirl,  barn,  farm,  bairn,  girn,  dirt,  gart,  and  changes  places  with  the  vowel  in 
many  words,  such  as  thretty,  thirty ;  dirl,  thrill ;  girn,  grin  ;  brad,  board  ; 
brunt,  burnt ;  warsle,  wrestle,  &c. 

The  s  has  the  usual  English  sound,  unless  influenced  by  the  Erse  or  French, 
when  it  takes  sh,  as  in  shneezin,  shnuff,  Cushion  (poison),  ashet  (assiette), 
gushet  (guischet).  Followed  by  u  it  takes  the  French  sound  of  eu  as  sugh, 
succar  (sugar),  sune,  sud. 

7Ms  generally  mute  between  particular  consonants,  and  such  words  as  the 
following :  whistle,  thistle,  fasten,  soften,  perfect,  corrupted,  neglected,  act, 
fact  are  pronounced  whussle,  thnssle,fassen,  saffen,perfeck,  corruppit,  negleckit, 
ack,  fack. 

Probably  in  the  time  of  Burns  w  before  r  was  sounded  in  some  words,  such 
as  wrang,  wright,  wrack,  but  the  custom  has  nearly  disappeared. 


a,  sometimes  used  for  he,  she,  or  it. 
a',  all ;   every  one,  with  the  sense  of 

each. 

abeigh,  at  a  distance,  aloof, 
aboon,  above,  overhead,  upstairs. 
adle,  cow  lant,  putrid  water, 
advisement,  advice,  counsel. 
ae,  one. 
afore,  before, 
aiblins,  perhaps,  possibly, 
aik,  aiken,  oak,  oaken, 
ail,  to  be  ill,  to  complain. 
Ailsa  Craig,  an  island  rock  in  the 

Firth  of  Clyde. 
ain,  own. 
air,  early. 

airle-penny,  airles,  earnest-money. 
airn,  aims,  iron,  fetters. 
airt,  to  direct ;  a  direction,  point  of  the 

compass. 
aith,  oath. 

ajee,  ajar ;  twisted  ;  sulky,  cross, 
alake,  alas. 
amaist,  almost. 


an,  if. 

an',  and. 

Andro,  Andrew. 

ane,  one,  an. 

aneugh,  aneuch,  enough. 

anither,  another. 

a's,  all  is. 

asklent,  awry,  off  the  plumb. 

aspar,  spread  out. 

athort,  athwort,  athwart,  across, 
over. 

attour,  moreover,  beyond,  beside. 

atweel,  truly,  indeed,  assuredly,  of 
course. 

aught,  to  own,  to  possess;  posses- 
sion ;  eight. 

aughteen,  eighteen. 

auld,  old. 

auld  shoon,  old  shoes  ;  a  discarded 
lover. 

aumous,  alms. 

aumous-dish,  a  beggar's  collecting 
dish,  the  poor-box. 

ava,  at  all. 


GLOSSARY 


507 


awa,  away. 

awald,  folded  or  doubled  up.    A  sheep 

is  awald  when  it  is  on  its  back  and 

cannot  rise.     Applied  to  a  drunken 

person  having  fallen, 
awauk,  to  awake, 
a-wee,  a  short  time, 
ay,  aye,  always,  (2)  assent ;  lay,  but'' 

=  qualified  assent, 
ayont,  beyond,  later  than,  farther. 


ba',  a  ball. 

babie-clouts,  baby  clothes. 

bade,  did  bid ;  endured. 

baig'nets,  bayonets. 

bairn,  a  child. 

baith,  both. 

baloo,  balow,  hush  !   a  lullaby. 

ban,  to  curse. 

ban',  a  bond ;  an  agreement. 

bann'd,  cursed,  sworn. 

bannock,    bonnock,   a   thick    cake 

baked  on  a  flat  pan  of  iron, 
barefit,  barefoot. 
barley-bree,  malt  liquor,  whisky  or 

ale. 

basin,  a  dish  for  holding  oatmeal. 
bauekie-bird,  a  bat. 
baudrons,  a  cat. 
bauk,  a  cross-beam, 
bauld,  bold, 
bawbee,  a  halfpenny. 
bawk,  a  pathway  through  growing 

crops. 

bawsent,  white-faced. 
be,  by,  as  denoting  the  cause ;  let  be, 

let  alone. 

beck,  a  curtsy ;  to  make  obeisance, 
beet,  to  kindle,  to  mend  (the  firej. 
befa',  befall. 
behint,  behind. 
beld,  bald, 
ben,    within ;     the    inner    room    or 

parlour, 
benmost  bore,  the  farthest  crevice, 

chink,  or  hole. 

bent,  moorland  grass;  the  open  field. 
beuk,  a  book, 
beyont,  beyond. 
bicker,  a  beaker,  an  ale-pot ;  to  flow, 

to  dispute. 

bicker'd,  flowed,  rippled,  disputed. 
bickerin,  rippling  ;  disputing,  wrang- 
ling. 

bide,  to  wait,  to  stay,  to  remain, 
bield,  a  shelter,  refuge. 


bien,    thriving,     comfortable,    cosy, 

snug. 

big,  to  build  ;  large,  swollen. 
bing,  a  heap. 
birk,  a  birch. 

birken-shaw,  a  birch-wood, 
birkie,  a  smart  or  conceited  person. 
birle,  to  drink  in  company,  to  carouse. 

Birle  the  bawbee,  to  spend  money 

in  social  drinking, 
bit,  a  morsel,  a  piece ;  a  short  time, 
bizzard-gled,  the  buzzard-hawk;   a 

coward, 
blae,   blue,  the  colour  of  the  pollen 

on  the  sloe. 

blate,  shy,  bashful,  timid, 
blaw,  to  boast,  to  exaggerate. 
bleer,  to  obscure  the  vision,  to  de- 
ceive. 

bleerie,  red  about  the  eyes. 
bleer't,   bleerit,   dimmed,  obscured 

(with  weeping). 
blin',  blind, 
blink,  a  glance,  an   amorous  look ; 

a  short  space  of  time. 
blitter,  the  common  snipe. 
blue-bell,  the  harebell,  Campanula 

montanis. 

bluid,  blude,  blood, 
blume,  bloom ;  to  bloom, 
bluntie,  having  a  sheepish  look  ;  a 

stupid  or  simple  person, 
blyth,  cheerful,  gay,  merry, 
bobbit,    to    curtsy ;    up    and   down 

motion. 

bode,  a  bid,  a  price  offered ;  to  bid. 
bodie,  a  person  of  little  account, 
bogle,  a  hobgoblin,  a  spectre, 
bole,  a  hole  or  cupboard  in  the  wall. 
bonie,  beautiful,  handsome,   pretty, 

plump  ;  pleasant  to  see. 
'boon.     See  aboon. 
bouk,  bowk,  bulk  ;  the  whole  body, 
bountith,  bounty,  reward,  bonus. 
bow-houghed,  bow-legged. 
bracken  (Pteris  aquilind)^  the  com- 
mon fern. 
brae,   a  steep  bank,  the  slope  of  a 

hill,  the  broken  bank  of  a  river, 
brag,  to  boast. 
braid,  broad, 
brak,  broke,  broken, 
brankie,     gaudy,    lively,    prancing, 

showy. 

branks,  a  (wooden)  horse- bridle, 
braw,  brave,  well-dressed,  handsome; 

very,  extremely. 


5o8 


GLOSSARY 


brawlie,  in  good  health  and  cheerful. 

brawnit,  of  a  mixed  red  and  brown 
colour,  applied  to  cattle. 

breckan,  a  horse-collar. 

breeks,  breeches. 

brent,  smooth,  unwrinkled,  high. 

brie,  the  brow. 

brier,  the  briar  ;  to  sprout. 

brig,  a  bridge. 

broo,  broth,  juice,  liquor, 

brose,  raw  oatmeal  mixed  with  water. 

browst,  a  brew ;  the  consequence  of 
one's  own  action. 

brulzie,  a  broil,  a  quarrel. 

buffet-stool,  a  low  wooden  stool  set 
on  a  frame. 

bugb.t,  a  sheepfold. 

bughtin  time,  the  time  when  cattle 
are  housed  for  the  night. 

bum,  the  buttocks ;  to  hum. 

burn,  a  small  stream,  a  rivulet. 

burnie,  dim.  of  burn. 

buskit,  adorned,  dressed, 

buss,  a  bush. 

but,  except,  unless,  as  well  as. 

but,  the  kitchen. 

but  and  ben,  the  kitchen  and  par- 
lour ;  backwards  and  forwards. 

by,  relating  to,  towards,  beside,  past, 
aside. 

bye  attour,  besides,  into  the  bargain. 

byke,  a  beehive,  a  swarm,  a  crowd. 

byre,  a  cow-house. 


ca',  to  call,  to  knock,  to  drive. 
ca',  a  call,  a  whistle,  a  summons, 
caddie,  cadie,  a  servant  lad,  avarlet. 
caird,  a  tinker. 
cairn,  a  loose  heap  of  stones. 
caller,  fresh,  bracing,  healthy, 
callet,  a  drab,  a  dirty  woman,  trull, 
cam,  came,  did  come, 
can,  a  tin  vessel,  a  dish  of  liquor, 
cankers,  to  be  querulous,  to  grumble, 
cankert,  bad-tempered,  soured, 
cannie,   canny,   pleasant,   cautious, 

knowing,  skilful. 

cannily,  cannilie,  softly,  gently, 
cantie,  canty,  cheerful,  merry, 
cap,  caup,  a  small  wooden  dish  with 

a  handle  ;  a  quaich. 
capon,  a  castrated  cock, 
capon-craws,  crowing  like  a  capon 

(the  capon  was  taken  for  an  emblem 

of  stupidity), 
cardin,  combing  (wool,  flax,  &c.). 


care  na  by,  do  not  care. 

car't  na  by,  cared  not  at  all. 

carl,  carle,  a  churl,  a  fellow,  an  old 

man,  a  peasant,  a  clown, 
carlie,  dim.  of  carl, 
carlin,    carline,    an    old    wrinkled 

woman,  a  shrew. 

castocks,  stem  and  pith  of  the  cab- 
bage or  colewort. 
caudron,  a  caldron, 
cauf,  a   calf,    a  silly   and  ridiculous 

person. 

cauld,  a  cold,  the  cold  shivers. 
cavie,  a  hen-coop. 
cess,  to  tax  ;  the  land  tax. 
chanler-chafted,  lantern-jawed. 
chap,  a  person,  a  lover ;  to  rap. 
chappin,  a  quart  pot ;    calling  (the 

landlotd). 

cheap,  cheep,  to  chirp,  to  peep. 
chiel,  chield,  a  young  fellow. 
chittering,  shivering. 
chuck,  a  hen,  a  chicken  ;  a  dear, 
claes,  clothes. 

claith,  claithing,  cloth,  clothing. 
clamb,  climbed, 
clankie,  a  striking  noise,  a  sounding 

blow. 

clappin,  patting  gently. 
claught,  clutched. 
claughtin,  clutching,  grasping, 
claut,  to  clutch,  to  hold,  to  scrape, 
claver,  clover ;  to  talk  nonsense. 
glavers,  idle  talk. 
claw,  to  scratch,  to  thrash, 
claymore,  a  two-handed  sword, 
eleed,  to  clothe,  to  cover, 
cleek,  to  seize,  to  snatch, 
cleekit,  hooked,  seized, 
cleeks,  cramp  in  the  legs, 
clink,  money  ;  to  jingle,  to  rhyme. 
clinkin,  a   bell-like   sound ;    abrupt 

motion, 
cloot,   a   hoof;    auld    clootie,   the 

devil. 

clout,  a  patch ;  to  patch,  to  repair. 
clout  in,  patching,  repairing, 
clouts,  ragged  clothes, 
cluds,  clouds. 

clue,  a  ball  of  worsted,  cotton,  &c. 
clunk,  the  hollow  sound  produced  by 

emptying  a  bottle  hastily, 
cockets,  ornamental  head- gear, 
cod,  a  pillow,  a  cushion, 
coft,  to  buy. 
cog,  coggie,  a  small  wooden  dish 

without  handles. 


GLOSSARY 


509 


compleenin,  complaining. 

coof,  cuif,  a  blockhead,  a  dolt. 

cool'd  in  her  linens,  laid  in  her 
shroud. 

coor,  to  cover,  to  duck  down. 

coost,  to  cast,  to  throw. 

coot,  the  water-hen.     Coots,  hoofs. 

cootie,  rough-legged ;  a  small  dish. 

core,  a  chorus,  a  convivial  company. 

corn-mou',  a  stack  of  corn ;  where 
the  corn  is  stacked. 

corse,  a  corpse. 

countra,  country. 

coup,  to  capsize ;  head  over  heels. 

cour,  to  crouch,  to  duck  down. 

couthie,  couthy,  kind,  pleasant, 
affectionate. 

cowte,  a  colt. 

crack,  conversation  ;  to  converse. 

craft-rig,  a  croft  ridge  ;  used  equiv. 

craibit,  crabbit,  crabbed,  fretful. 

craig,  a  crag,  a  rock ;  the  neck. 

craigie,  the  throat,  the  gullet ;  craggy. 

craik,  the  landrail ;  to  croak. 

cranreuch,  hoar-frost. 

crap,,  a  crop ;  the  top. 

craps,  growing  crops. 

creel,  an  osier  basket,  a  hamper ; 
perplexity,  confusion  of  mind. 

creepie-chair,  the  stool  of  repen- 
tance in  the  kirk. 

cronie,  an  intimate,  a  companion. 

crooded,  croodl'd,  cooed,  mur- 
mured. 

crooks,  curvature  of  the  neck  or 
spine. 

crouse,  elated  ;  courageous,  bold. 

crow-die,  oatmeal  gruel  made  with 
water ;  breakfast-time. 

cuddle,  to  caress,  to  embrace  ;  to  lie 
close. 

cummer  (Fr.  commere),  a  gossip ; 
a  midwife,  a  godmother,  a  hag. 

curch,  a  kerchief ;  a  woman's  head- 
cover. 

curchie,  a  curtsy ;  a  head-dress. 

cushat,  the  wild  pigeon. 

cut-luggit,  crop-eared. 

cutty,  short,  bob-tailed. 

cutty-stool,  a  low  stool.  See  creepie- 

,    chair. 

daddy,  father,  an  old  person. 
damn,    folly,    pastime,    matrimonial 

intercourse, 
daft,  merry,  giddy. 
daidlin,  waddling ;  inactive  or  tardy. 


daintie,    pleasant,     good-humoured, 

agreeable. 
dang,  knocked  over  ;  pushed  about, 

surpassed. 
daunton,  to  intimidate,  to  terrify,  to 

depress, 
daur,  to  dare, 
daut,   dawte,  to   caress,   to  pet,   t£> 

fondle. 

dautie,  a  pet ;  term  of  affection, 
dautit,  fond  led,  caressed,  petted, 
daw,  dawn. 
dawin,  the  dawning. 
dead,  death. 

deave,  to  deafen,  to  stun  with  noise. 
deil,  the  devil. 

deil  ma  care,  do  not  care  a  straw. 
delve,  to  dig. 
descriving,  describing. 
deuk,  a  duck. 
diein,  dying, 
dight,  dighted,  to  wipe,  wiped ;  to 

clean  corn  from  chaff. 
din,  noise ;  to  make  a  noise, 
ding,  to  overcome,  to  surpass. 
dink,  neatly,  dainty ;  precise,  proper, 
dinmont,  a  two-year-old  male  sheep, 
dinna,  do  not. 
dirl'd,  thrilled,  vibrated, 
dirt,  a  contemptuous  term  for  money, 
dochter,  daughter. 
doited,  stupid,  as  in  frail  old  age. 
donsie,  self-important,  restive, 
doo,  a  dove ;  term  of  endearment. 
dool,  sorrow ;  to  lament,  to  mourn, 
doolfu',  doleful. 
douce,  douse,  steady,  grave,  gentle, 

sedate. 

doudl't,  dandled. 
dought,  pret.  of  dow,  to  be  able,  to 

possess  strength. 
douk,  doukit,  to  duck,  ducked, 
doun,  down. 
doup,  the  bottom. 
dour,     obstinate,     sullen,     mentally 

strong. 

dow,  dowe,  am  able, 
dowf,  pithless,    wanting   force,   sad, 

dismal. 

dowie,  dull,  sorrowful, 
down,  low-lying  land, 
downa,  cannot ;  not  able, 
downa-do's,  listless,  fatigued,  unable, 
doxy,  a  paramour, 
doylt,  stupid,  crazed,  hebetated, 
dozen,  shrivelled,  dried  up. 
draigl't,  soaked  with  mud  or  water. 


GLOSSARY 


dram,  a  portion  of  whisky. 

drants,  tedious  talk,  long  whining 
prayers. 

drap,  drappie,  a  drop ;  a  small  por- 
tion of  liquor. 

dree,  to  dread,  to  suffer,  to  endure. 

dreigh,  long  and  uninteresting,  long- 
winded. 

driddle,  to  move  slowly ;  more  action 
than  motion. 

drone,  the  monotonous  pipe  of  the 
bagpipe  ;  a  prosy  person. 

drouk,  to  wet,  to  soak. 

droukit,  soaked,  wet  through. 

drouth,  drought. 

drouthie,  very  thirsty;  always  thirsty. 

drumlie,  drumly,  muddy,  dis- 
coloured. 

dry,  thirsty. 

duddie,  ragged. 

duds,  duddies,  ragged  clothes. 

dun,  to  stun  with  a  great  noise ;  a 
brown  colour. 

dune,  done. 

dung,  knocked  or  pushed,  about. 

dunts,  blows;  wounds  caused  by  a 
blow. 

dwalt,  dwelt. 

dyke,  a  wall  of  undressed  stones 
without  mortar. 

dyvor,  a  bankrupt,  a  rascal,  a  ne'er- 
do-well. 

e'e,  eye. 

een,  eyes. 

e'en,  even,  even  so,  just  so. 

e'en,  e'enin,  evening,  the  eve  of  a 
feast. 

eerie,  sad,  weird,  ghostly ;  in  fear  of 
future  misfortune,  feeling  super- 
stitious fear. 

eild,  old  age. 

eke,  also. 

Eller,  an  elder  of  the  kirk. 

en',  end. 

eneugh,  enough. 

enfauld,  infold,  to  encompass. 

ether-stans,  the  adder-stone;  an 
amulet. 

fa',  a  fall,  autumn  ;  to  fall. 

fa',  portion,  lot. 

faen,  faun,  fell,  has  fallen. 

fain,  fond,  desirous. 

fair-fa',  good  luck,  welcome. 

fand,  found. 

f aught,  worry,  fight,  trouble. 


fauld,  a  fold  ;  to  'fold. 

faulding,    folding;    a  sheepfold  or 
farm  enclosure. 

fause,  false. 

faut,  a  fault. 

fautless,  faultless. 

fautor,  a  defaulter,  a  transgressor. 

fechtin,  fighting. 

feck,  the  most  or  greater  part. 

fecket,  a  sleeved  waistcoat. 

feckless,  feeble,  wanting  resource. 

fell,  keen,  biting,  fierce,  cruel,  relent- 
less. 

fell,  a  tableland  mountain. 

fen,  a  shift ;  to  get  along. 

ferlie,  ferly,  wonder,  marvel,  surprise. 

fey,  fated,  doomed;  predestined. 

fldge,  to  be  restless,  to  be  uneasy. 

ndgin-fain,  to  be  restless  with  eager-      / 
ness.  • 

fiel,  comfortable,  cosy,  clean,  neat. 

fient,  fiend,  a  petty  oath. 

fient  a  hair,  not  in  the  least. 

flent-ma-care,  no  matter. 

fier,  sound,  healthy. 

fiere,  feire,  friend,  companion,  com- 
rade. 

fierie,  feirie,  clever,  active,  nimble, 
vigorous,  mettlesome. 

flllabeg,  the  short  kilt  worn  by  the 
Highlanders. 

fit,  the  foot. 

flae,  a  flea. 

flang,  flung. 

flee,  to  fly. 

fleech'd,  coaxed,  cajoled,  wheedled. 

fley,  fley'd,  to  frighten ;  frightened, 
scared. 

flie,  a  fly ;  to  fly. 

flittering,  fluttering. 

flyte,  to  scold. 

fock,  folk. 

foor,  went,  fared. 

forby,  besides. 

forgather,    to     meet,    to    assemble 
accidentally. 

forgie,  to  forgive. 

fou,  fow,  full ;  not  sober,  drunk. 

foumart,  the  polecat. 

foursome,  a  quartette. 

fouth,  abundance,  plenty  ;  numerous. 

frae,  from. 

fremit,  strange,  foreign,  unrelated. 

fc-ewch,  brittle. 

frien,  a  friend. 

fu',  full. 

fu'-han't,  full- handed. 


GLOSSARY 


fud,  a  short  tail ;  the  buttocks. 

furder,  further. 

fur,  furr,  a  furrow. 

fushionless,  tasteless,  sapless,  insipid. 

fyke,  to  fidget,  to  be  restless. 

fyle,  fyled,  to  dirty,  to  soil;  soiled. 

gab,  the  mouth,  insolence. 

gae  (gang)  ;  gaen,  gane ;  gaed ; 
gaun,  to  go ;  gone  ;  went ;  going. 

gairs,  ornamental  slashes  in  a  lady's 
dress. 

gait,  way,  manner,  practice,  deport- 
ment. 

gangrel,  a  vagrant. 

gapin,  gaping,  looking  foolish  or 
idiotic. 

gar,  to  make,  to  cause,  to  compel. 

gar't,  compelled,  caused,  forced. 

gash,  wise,  sagacious;  pert  or  in- 
solent speech. 

gate,  a  way,  path,  road. 

gaucie,  gausie,  plump,  portly,  well- 
conditioned. 

gaud,  a  goad. 

gawky,  awkward,  ungainly,  foolish. 

gear,  goods,  property,  wealth,  money, 
harness,  tools,  tackle,  &c. 

geek,  to  toss  the  head,  to  sport. 

gentle,  well-born.    " 

genty,  courteous,  having  good  man- 
ners. 

ghaist,  a  ghost. 

gie,  gae;  gied;  gien ;  to  give; 
gave  ;  given. 

gif,  if,  whether. 

gill,  a  half-pint  glass  ;  a  quarter-pint 
glass  of  whisky.  A  Hawick  gill= 
two  gills. 

gimmer,  a  young  female  sheep,  a 
ewe  that  has  not  borne  young. 

gin,  before,  until,  unless,  if,  whether. 

girdle,  a  circular  iron  plate  for  baking 
cakes. 

girn,  girnin,  to  grin,  grinning. 

girr,  a  hoop. 

glaiks,  to  get  the,  to  be  deceived, 
deluded,  cheated ;  jilted. 

glaive,  a  sword,  a  broadsword. 

glaum'd,  grasped,  clutched,  snatched. 

gled,  the  common  kite,  a  hawk. 

gleede,  a  spark,  ember,  red-hot  coal. 

gleg,  clear-sighted,  sharp,  eager. 

gleib,  a  piece,  a  portion ;  the  land 
belonging  to  the  clergy  benefice. 

Glenturit,  a  small  lateral  valley  to 
the  Earn  in  Perthshire. 


glibber,  smoothly. 

glinted,  flashed. 

glintin,  sparkling. 

gloamin,  twilight,  dusk,  evening. 

gloamin-shot,  sunset ;  a  twilight  in- 
terview. 

glooves,  gloves. 

glow'r,  a  frown ;  to  stare,  to  scowl. 

glowrin,  threatening  (weather)  ;  star- 
ing, stormy. 

gor-cock,  the  moorcock. 

gowan,  a  generic  name  for  the  daisy. 

gowd,  gold,  money. 

gowden,  golden. 

go wff'd,  struck;  hit  as  in  the  game 
of  golf. 

gowk,  a  blockhead,  simpleton,  an 
awkward  fellow  ;  the  cuckoo. 

graff,  a  grave. 

grain,  a  branch  ;  the  fork  of  a  tree  or 
the  junction  of  its  branches. 

graip,  to  grope. 

graith,  tools,  harness,  equipment  of 
any  kind. 

grane,  a  groan  ;  to  groan. 

grape,  a  dung-fork. 

grat,  wept. 

gree,  to  agree ;  the  first  place,  the 
highest  honours. 

greet ;  grat ;  greetin ;  to  cry,  to 
weep  ;  wept ;  weeping. 

grippit,  arrested,  clasped. 

grist,  the  corn  sent  to  the  mill ;  used 
equiv. 

groanin-maut,  the  lying-in  drink  for 
the  midwife  and  friends. 

grunzie,  the  snout,  mouth,  face, 
visage. 

grupe,  caught  hold,  seized.  . 

gude,  guid,  God,  good. 

guide'en,  good  evening,,  a  saluta- 
tion. 

guid-willy,  hospitable,  kindly,  gen- 
erous good-will. 

gudeman,  guidman,  the  master  of 
the  house,  a  husband,  a  tenant 
farmer. 

gudesake,  God  sake ! 

guse,  a  goose. 

gutcher,  grandfather,  grandsire. 

gut-scraper,  a  fiddler. 

ha',  the  hall. 

hadden,  haddin,  holding,  inheritance, 
hae,  haen,  to  have;  had,  been  having, 
haet,  an  atom,  a  very  small  quantity, 
haffets,  the  temples,  the  side  locks. 


GLOSSARY 


haggis,  a  dish  generally  consisting  of 
the  lungs,  heart,  and  liver  of  a  sheep 
minced  with  suet,  onions,  &c.,  and 
cooked  in  a  sheep's  maw. 

haith,  '  in  faith  ! '  an  exclamation. 

haill,  whole,  well,  healthful. 

bain,  hain'd,  to  spare,  to  save ;  saved. 

kalian,  a  porch,  a  dwelling,  a  house. 

hallan-en',  the  end  of  the  porch  or 
partition-wall  between  the  door  and 
the  fire. 

hals,  the  neck,  the  throat. 

hammer,  a  clumsy,  noisy  person. 

han',  the  hand. 

hand-breed,  a  handbreadth. 

hankers,  desires,  covets. 

hansel,  to  use  a  thing  for  the  first 
time  ;  the  first  gift,  the  first  buyer; 
earnest- money. 

hanselling,  the  first  use  or  celebration. 

hap,  to  cover  for  warmth,  to  wrap,  to 
tuck  in ;  a  covering,  a  wrap. 

harry,  herry,  to  rob,  to  plunder,  to 
ravage. 

haslock.     See  hals. 

haslock-woo',  the  finest  wool  on  the 
hals  or  throat  of  a  sheep. 

haud,  to  hold. 

hauf,  the  half;  to  halve. 

haurl,  haurl'd,  to  drag,  dragged. 

hause,  to  embrace,  to  hug.   See  hals. 

hauver-meal,  oatmeal. 

havins,  sense,  manners,  behaviour. 

hawkit,  a  white  face,  applied  to  kine. 

headin-man,  a  headsman,  an  exe- 
cutioner. 

hecht,  a  promise,  an  offer;  to  pro- 
mise, to  engage. 

heckle,  a  flax-comb;  to  cross-examine. 

hee,  a  call. 

heeze,  to  hoist,  to  exalt,  to  raise. 

heich,  heigh,  high. 

hellim,  a  helm. 

hem-shin'd,  bow-legged,  like  the 
shape  of  the  half  of  a  horse-collar. 

hern,  the  heron. 

hottest,  hottest. 

heugh,  a  crag,  a  pit,  a  hollow. 

heuk,  a  hook,  a  reaping-hook. 

hie -gate,  a  thoroughfare  through  a 
town. 

hiney,  hinny,  honey ;  a  term  of  en- 
dearment. 

hing,  to  hang. 

hirple,  to  hobble>  to  limp,  to  walk 
lamely. 

hirplin,  hobbling. 


hizzie,  a  huzzy  ;  a  wench, 
hoast,  a  cough  ;  to  cough, 
hodden,  homespun  cloth  made  of 

natural-coloured  wool, 
hodden-grey,  grey  homespun, 
hog,  hoggie,  a   first-year-old    sheep 

before  shearing.   See  dinmont  and 

gimmer. 
Hollan,    Holland ;     linen    imported 

from  there. 
hoodie,   the    hooded    and    common 

crow. 

houpe,  hope. 

howket,  digged,  dug,  tinearthed. 
howks,  furrows,  indentations, 
h owlet,  the  owl. 
hunkers,  bent  knees,  pleading,  in  a 

squatting  position,with  the  haunches, 

knees,  and  ankles  acutely  bent. 
hurchin,  an  urchin, 
hushion,  a  footless  stocking. 

i',  in. 

ilk,  ilka,  the  same,  each,  every. 

ingle,  the  fireplace,  a  chimney-corner. 

ingle-gleede,  a  blazing  fireside. 

in-knee'd,  knock-kneed. 

is,  often  used  for  the  plural  are. 

I'se,  I  shall  or  will. 

ither,  other. 

itsel',  itself. 

jad,  an  old  worn-out  horse ;  a  scurvy 
woman. 

jauner,  to  talk  at  random,  to  jabber. 

jaw,  impudent  talk ;  to  pour,  to  dash, 
to  splash. 

jawpish,  frolicsome,  mischievous, 
tricky. 

jee'd,  stirred,  rocked,  jogged. 

jeeg,  to  jog,  to  jerk. 

jimp,  jimpy  or  jimply,  neatly,  ele- 
gantly. 

jimps,  easy  stays  open  in  front. 

jinkin,  dodging,  moving  quickly. 

jinks,  tricks,  dodges. 

jirkinet,  a  woman's  outside  jacket. 

jo,  joy,  an  expression  of  good  will, 
friendly  address. 

jorum,  a  large  drinking  jug  or  bowl. 

jouk,  to  cower,  to  bend,  to  stoop. 

kail,  colewort,  cabbage ;  broth  made 

from  greens. 

kail  yard,  a  kitchen  garden, 
kame,  kaim'd,  to  comb,  combed, 
kebars,  beams,  rafters. 


GLOSSARY 


513 


kebbuck,  a  large  cheese  uncut. 

keekin-glass,  a  looking-glass. 

keekit,  pryed,  peered,  gazed. 

ken,  kend,  ken't,  to  know;  known. 

Kilbaigie,  a  favourite  brand  of  whisky 
manufactured  at  Kilbaigie,  Clack- 
mannan, one  of  the  earliest  distil- 
leries after  the  abolition  of  the 
ferintosh  monopoly. 

killogie,  a  vacuity  before  the  fire- 
place in  a  kiln. 

kilt,  a  short  dress;  to  tuck  up  the 
skirts. 

kimmer.     See  cummer. 

kin,  blood  relations. 

kin',  kind. 

kintra,  country,  neighbours. 

kirk,  a  church. 

kirtle,  a  woman's  short  skirt  or  outer 
petticoat. 

kist,  kissed  ;  a  chest. 

kith,  acquaintance,  those  not  related 
by  blood. 

kittle,  difficult ;  to  tickle.  To  kittle 
hair  on  thairms  =  to  play  the 
fiddle. 

kiutlin,  cuddling. 

knaggs,  knobs,  protuberances. 

knowe,  a  knoll,  a  hillock. 

knurl,  a  dwarf,  a  hunchback ;  stunted. 

kye,  cattle. 


labour  lea,  to  plough  grass  land. 

laigh,  low. 

laik,  lack,  want. 

laird,  a  landowner ;  an  abbey  laird 
=  one  who  took  refuge  from  his 
creditors  in  Holyrood  Abbey. 

laith,  loath. 

Ian',  land. 

lane,  alone,  lonely,  solitary. 

lang-neckit,  long-necked. 

lap,  leaped. 

lapwing,  the  plover. 

lass,  a  girl,  a  young  woman,  a  sweet- 
heart, the  complement  of  lad. 

lave,  flowing  freely;  the  rest  or  re- 
mainder. 

laverock,  the  lark. 

law,  low  ;  a  round-capped  mountain 
which  ascends  by  stages. 

lawin,  the  expense,  the  cost,  the  bill. 

lea,  grass  land,  untilled  land,  pasture. 

leal,  loyal,  true,  trusty. 

lear,  lair,  learning,  knowledge,  edu- 
cation. 


lea-rig,  a  ridge  in  a  field  left  un- 
ploughed  between  ridges  bearing 
grain. 

learn,  to  teach. 

leddy,  lady,  the  wife  of  a  landlord. 

lee,  the  slope  of  a  hill ;  warm,  shel- 
tered ;  in  phrase :  an  intensitive 
meaning  of  loneliness. 

lee-lang,  livelong. 

leesome,  lawful,  pleasant. 

leeze  me,  an  expression  of  pleasure  = 
dear  is  to  me. 

len',  to  lend. 

let  be,  to  let  alone,  to  cease  from. 

leuk,  looked. 

ley- crap,  the  first  crop  after  the 
ploughing  of  grass  or  fallow  land. 

lickit  my  winnins  =  dissipated  my 
means  or  money. 

liein,  lying,  equivocating. 

lien,  lain. 

lift,  the  sky,  the  heavens ;  to  collect, 
to  steal. 

lilt,  lilting,  a  song;  merry  singing. 

limpin,  limping,  hobbling. 

linens,  underclothing ;  death-clothes. 

lingles,  shoemakers'  thread. 

linkin,  tripping,  dancing,  hurrying. 

lint,  flax. 

lintwhite,  lintie,  the  linnet. 

lint-white,  flaxen-coloured. 

lippen,  to  trust,  to  believe. 

lippie,  dim.  of  lip. 

loan,  loaning,  a  lane,  a  farm 
road. 

lo'e,  loo,  lo'ed,  to  love  ;  loved. 

logie.     See  killogie. 

loof,  the  palm  of  the  hand,  the  open 
hand. 

loon,  loun,  a  rascal,  a  fellow,  a  ser- 
vant, a  varlet. 

loot,  did  let. 

loup,  lowp,  to  leap. 

lour,  lowering,  impending. 

lowe,  a  flame ;  to  flame. 

lowpin,  leaping,  jumping. 

Lowry,  Lawrence ;  a  crafty  person. 

lowse,  to  loose,  to  untie. 

luckie,  lucky,  an  elderly  woman,  an 
alewife,  a  familiar  address. 

lug,  the  ear,  a  handle. 

luggie,  a  small  wooden  vessel  with  a 

handle. 

lunzie-banes,  the  loin  bones, 
lyart,  grey,  of  a  mixed  colour, 
lye,  to  lie  down. 
lymmar  or  limmer,  a  knave,  a  jade. 


Ll 


5T4 


GLOSSARY 


mae,  more. 

mailen,    mailin,    a   farm,    holding, 

rent ;  the  outfit  for  a  bride, 
mair,  more, 
maist,  most, 
mak,  to  make. 
Malvosie,  Malmsey  wine, 
mantle,  a  mantle,  a  lady's  cloak, 
maskin-pat,  a  tea-pot,  a  still, 
maukin,  a  hare ;  a  slattern,  a  term  of 

abuse. 

maun,  must, 
maunna,  must  not. 
maut,  malt,  liquor, 
mavis,  the  thrush, 
mawin,  mowing. 

mawn,  a  basket  or  hamper ;  mown, 
may,  a  maid. 

meikle,  muckle,  much,  great,  large, 
mell,  to  mix,  to  mingle,  to  have  in- 
tercourse with, 
men',  to  mend. 

menzie,  retainers,  followers,  men. 
merle,  a  blackbird, 
midden,  a  dunghill, 
midden -creels,  manure  baskets  car- 
ried on  the  back, 
milkin-shiel,  the  milking-shed. 
mim-mou'd,  said  of  one  who  speaks 
affectedly. 

min',  mind,  remembrance;  to  re- 
collect. 

mindna,  to  mind  not,  to  forget. 

minnie,  minny,  mother. 

mirk,  gloomy,  dark ;  darkness. 

mirkest,  gloomiest,  darkest. 

mistak,  mistake. 

mitten'd,  covered,  gloved. 

monie,  mony,  many. 

moop,  to  mump,  to  nibble  as  a  sheep. 

morn,  the  next  day,  to-morrow. 

mou',  the  mouth. 

moudiewart,  the  mole. 

muck,  manure. 

muckin,  cleansing  the  stable  or  cow- 
house. 

muckle.    See  meikle. 

muir,  moorland,  a  fell. 

multure  or  mouter,  the  portion  re- 
tained by  the  miller  for  grinding 
the  corn. 

Mysie,  Mary. 

na,  nae,  no,  not,  but,  than, 
naebody,  nobody,  no  one. 
naig,  a  nag. 
naigie,  a  small  riding-horse. 


naur,  near  to,  close  to. 

neb,  the  nose,  a  beak. 

nebbit,  shaped  like  a  bird's  bill. 

neibor,  a  neighbour. 

neist,  niest,  next,  nearest. 

neives,  nieves,  the  fists,  the  closed 

hands. 

neuk,  a  nook,  a  corner, 
nicher,  to  neigh ;  the  call  of  a  mare 

to  her  foal. 

night-fa',  nightfall,  twilight. 
nipt,  pinched,  shrivelled, 
nit,  a  nut. 
no,  not. 

nocht,  nothing,  no  more, 
norland,  northland. 
nowt,  cattle,  nolt. 

o',  of. 

Ochils,  the  mountain  range  dividing 
Perthshire  from  Clackmannan. 

o'erlay,  a  blouse,  a  smock. 

o'erword,  a  refrain,  a  chorus. 

onie,  ony,  any. 

or,  ere,  before. 

orra,  extra,  superfluous. 

o's,  of  his,  of  us. 

o't,  of  it. 

oursels,  ourselves. 

outshin'd,  shin-bones  turned  out- 
wards. 

outwittens,  without  the  knowledge 
of. 

owre,  over. 

owsen,  oxen. 

oxter,  the  armpit. 

paction,  an  agreement,  an  arrange- 
ment. 

paidle,  to  paddle. 

painch,  the  paunch. 

painch-lippet,  thick-lipped. 

paitrick,  a  partridge. 

parishen,  the  parish. 

parle,  speech. 

parley,  a  truce,  a  conference. 

pat,  a  pot ;  did  put,  ejected. 

paukie,  pawkie,  sly,  artful,  knowing. 

peat-creel,  a  .basket  for  carrying 
dried  bog  turf  for  fuel. 

pschan,  the  stomach. 

pechin,  out  of  breath,  panting. 

pendles,  earrings. 

penny-fee,  wages,  income. 

Phemie,  Euphemia. 

philibeg,  the  kilt  or  Highlander's 
short  dress. 


GLOSSARY 


pickle,  a  few,  a  small  quantity. 
pin,  a  wooden  bar  or  door-latch, 
pine,  pain,  care, 
pink,  to  glimmer,  to  contract  the  eye 

in  looking ;  a  woman  who  glimmers, 
pint-stoup,  a  pint-vessel  containing 

two  English  quarts. 
pit,  to  put. 
placads,  shouts. 
plaiden-wab,     homespun      tweeled 

woollen, 
plaidie  or  plaid,  a  broad  unformed 

piece  of  cloth  for  wrapping  about 

the  shoulders  and  body, 
plashy,  applied  to  a  body  of  water 

driven  violently, 
pleugh,  a  plough ;  to  plough, 
pliver,  the  plover, 
pocks,  pockets,  bags. 
poortith,  poverty. 
pou,  pu',  to  pull. 
pouch,  a  pocket. 
poutherad,  powdered  ;  sanctified. 
pow,  the  poll,  the  head, 
pree'd,  tasted, 
preen,  a  pin  ;  to  pin. 
prie,  pree,  to  prove,  to  taste,  to  try. 
priestie,  a  priest:  used  derisively. 
puir,  pure,  poor, 
pumps,  light  shoes. 
pun',  pund,  a  pound, 
pursie,  a  small  purse, 
pyke,  to  pick. 

quat,  quit,  did  quit. 

quean,   quine,   a    young    attractive 

woman. 

quey,  a  cow  that  has  not  calved. 
quo',  quoth. 

ramgunshoch,  surly,  cross-grained. 

randie,  randy,  a  sturdy  abusive  or 
threatening  beggar. 

rantin,  boisterous,  rollicking. 

raucle,  rauckle,  stout,  clever,  rash, 
fearless. 

rebute,  a  rebuff ;  to  rebuke. 

reck,  to  take  heed. 

rede,  counsel ;  to  counsel,  to  advise. 

reek,  smoke. 

reekit,  smoked,  dingy. 

reel,  a  dance  probably  indigenous  to 
Britain  (but  known  in  Scandinavia), 
performed  by  one  or  two  couples. 
The  chief  feature  is  a  circular  move- 
ment, the  dancers  standing  face  to 


face  and  describing  rapidly  a  series 

of  figures  of  8  with  a  gliding  motion, 
reif,  to  reave,  to. thieve, 
rew,  to  me. 
rig,  a  ridge, 
rin,  to  run. 
ringle-ey'd,  with  much  white  in  the 

eye. 
ripples,  ripells,   shooting  pains   in 

the  back  and  reins. 
ripplin-kame,  a  comb  for  separating 

the  bolls  of  flax  from   the   stem  : 

used  equiv. 
rither,  a  rudder, 
rock,  a  distaff.  • 
rood,  a  crucifix,  a  cross, 
roos'd,  praised,  flattered, 
roose,  to  praise,  to  commend, 
roosty,  rusty,  disused, 
rottan,  rottin,  the  rat. 
roun',  round, 
routh,  plenty,  good  store, 
routhie,  well- stocked,  of  comfortable 

means. 

row'd,  rolled,  wrapt, 
rowe,  to  roll,  to  wrap  ;  to  flow, 
rowin,  rolling,  wrapping. 
rumple-bane,  the  rump-bone, 
rung,  a  stout  stick,  a  cudgel, 
ryke,  to  reach  up. 


sae, so. 

sair,  sairly,  sore,  sorely,  severely. 

sair,  sair'd,  to  serve,  served. 

sail,  shall. 

sark,  a  shirt,  a  smock. 

Sassenach,  the  Gaelic  for  Saxon. 

saut,  salt. 

Sawney,  Sandie,  Alexander. 

sax,  six. 

scaith,  skaith,  damage,  hurt,  injury. 

scant,  devoid,  little  or  few. 

scauld,  to  scold,  a  scold. 

scho,  she. 

scrimp,  to  save,  to  deal  sparingly. 

scroggy,  applied  to  hill  slopes  covered 

with  brushwood, 
scuds,  brisk  beer,  foaming  ale. 
sculdudd'ry,  fornication. 
sel»,  self. 

semple,  simple,  low-born, 
sen-',  send. 

shachFd,  twisted,  bent,  shapeless, 
shanks,  the  legs, 
shanna,  shall  not. 
shavie,  a  prank. 


Ll  2 


GLOSSARY 


shaw,  a  wood ;  to  show, 
shellin-hill,   the    hill    or    eminence 
where  grain  was  dried  and  husked 
by  the  wind. 

Sherra-moor,  Sheriffmuir. 
sheugh,  a  ditch,  a  trench  ;  the  seed- 
furrow. 

sheuk,  shook,  did  shake. 
shiel,  a  shelter,  a  hut. 
shill,  shrill. 

shool,  a  shovel ;  to  shovel, 
shooling,  shovelling. 
shoon,  shoes. 
shore,  shor'd,  to  offer;  to  threaten; 

offered. 

short  syne,  a  little  time  ago. 
shouther,  the  shoulder, 
shure,  sheared,  did  shear; 
shute,  to  shoot, 
sic,  such. 

siccan,  such  kind  of. 
siller,  silver,  money,  wealth. 
silly,  frail,  in  delicate  health  ;  harm- 
less. 

simmer,  summer, 
sin',  since, 
sinny,  sunny, 
sinsyne,  since  then, 
skail,  to  spill,  to  pour, 
skeigh,  skittish,  mettlesome. 
skelp,  skelpin,  to  slap,  to  smack,  to 
trounce ;  a  smack,  smacking. 

skelpit,     trounced;     hastened,     ran 
quickly. 

skirl,  a  piercing  sound ;  to  shriek. 

sklent,  a  slanting  devious  course. 

skyte,  to  squirt,  to  glide,  to  skate. 

slade,  slid. 

slap,  a  field  gate ;  a  broken  fence. 

slee,  sly. 

slidd'ry,  slippery. 

sma',  small. 

smack,  a  sounding  kiss ;  to  slap. 

smoor,      smoor'd,      to      smother ; 
smothered. 

snapper,  to  stumble ;  to  fail  in  moral 
conduct. 

snawdrap,  the  snowdrop. 

snell,  keen,  sharp,  biting. 

snirtle,  to  snigger. 

snood,  a  ribbon  or  fillet  round  the 
head,  worn  by  maidens. 

snooded,  of  hair  in  ribbons. 

snool,  to  snub. 

snuff't,     snuffed,    repressed,    extin- 
guished. 

sojer,  sodger,  a  soldier. 


sonsy  (from  sons,  plenty),  pleasant, 

comfortable,  comely, 
sorn,  to  take  bed  and  board  without 

payment. 

soudie,  sowdy,  a  gross  heavy  person, 
sough,   south,   a   sigh ;    to   hum  or 

whistle  softly ;  the  sighing  noise  of 

wind  or  water. 

souk,  to  suck ;  a  draught  (of  liquor), 
soun',  sound. 

souter  or  sowter,  a  shoemaker, 
sowther,  to  solder,  to  cement. 
spak,  spoke,  did  speak, 
spavie,  the  spavin, 
speet,  to  spit,  to  impale, 
spell,  to  narrate,  to  discourse, 
spier,  to  ask,  to  inquire, 
splore,  to  boast ;  a  ramble  ;  a  revel, 

partaking  of  horse-play. 
spontoon,   a  half  pike   or   halberd 

discarded   in  the   British   army  in 

1787. 
spring,  a  quick  and  cheerful   tune, 

a  dance. 

sprush,  spruce,  dressed  up. 
spulzie,  plunder ;  to  despoil  or  rob. 
spunk,  spirit,  fire,  energy ;    a  splint 

of  wood  tipped  with  sulphur, 
spunkie,  spirited, 
stack,  stuck,  remained, 
staig,    a   young   horse   under   three 

years. 

staincher,  an  iron  or  other  post, 
stammer,  to  stutter, 
stan',  stand, 
stanced,  stationed, 
stanchel-fitted,  stiff  in  the  feet  or 

ankles  (?). 
stang,  stung ;  a  sting.     Hiding  the 

stang :  a  man  who  beat  his  wife  or 

who  was  an  impotent  bridegroom 

was    set   astride  a  long   pole  and 

carried  shoulder-high  through  the 

town  by  his  fellows  as  a  mark  of 

infamy. 

stank,  a  pool  of  standing  water, 
staukin,  stalking,  marching, 
staw,  a  stall ;  did  steal ;  surfeited, 
steek,  a  stitch,  to  stitch ;  to  shut,  to 

close. 

steel-waimit,  a  misshapen  paunch, 
steer,  to  stir,  to  rouse,  to  remove, 
sten,    a   spring,   a   leap,  to   rear   as 

a  horse. 

stickit,  stuck,  stopped, 
stirk,  a  heifer   or   bullock   between 

one  and  two  years  old. 


GLOSSARY 


51? 


stoiter'd,  staggered,  staggering  in 
walk. 

stoor,  stoure,  flying  dust,  used  fig. 

stot,  a  bull  or  ox  three  years  old. 

stoun,  a  sudden  pang. 

stoup,  a  vessel  for  holding  liquid. 

stourie,  dusty. 

stown,  stolen. 

stownlins,  by  stealth,  clandestinely. 

stoyt,  to  stagger. 

straik,  a  stroke ;  to  stroke. 

strak,  struck,  did  strike. 

strappin,  tall  and  handsome. 

strathspey,  a  reel  (which  see)  de- 
riving its  name  from  the  valley  of 
the  Spey.  The  music  with  the  title 
first  appears  in  a  Collection,  c.  1780. 
It  is  danced  slower  than  the  reel, 
but  the  motion  is  more  jerky.  The 
music  is  a  series  of  alternate  dotted 
quavers  and  semiquavers,  whilst 
a  reel  usually  consists  of  equal 
notes. 

straught,  straight ;  stretched. 

strunt,  strong  drink ;  to  swagger. 

stumpie,  curtailed,  mutilated. 

stumps,  legs  and  feet. 

sturt,  trouble,  strife  ;  to  molest. 

sud,  should. 

sune,  soon. 

swapped,  exchanged. 

swarf,  to  swoon. 

swat,  sweated. 

swats,  new  light  foaming  ale. 

swith,  get  away ! 

swoor,  swore. 

syne,  since,  then,  ago,  afterwards,  late 
as  opposed  to  soon.  See  p.  435. 

tae,  the  toe. 

tae'd,  having  toes  or  forks. 

taed,  the  toad. 

taen,  taken. 

tak,  to  take. 

tane,  the  one. 

tappit-hen,  a  large  round  bottle  for 
holding  whisky. 

tapsalteerie,  topsy-turvy. 

tassie,  a  glass,  a  goblet. 

tauld,  told. 

teethin,  teething. 

temper-pin,  the  wooden  pin  for  regu- 
lating the  motion  of  a  spinning- 
wheel. 

tent,  to  take  heed  or  care  for. 

tentie,  careful,  attentive. 

tentless,  careless,  heedless. 


teugh,  tough. 

teuk>  took. 

thae,  those. 

thairms,  catgut  fiddle-strings. 

theekit,  thatched,  covered. 

thegither,  together. 

thir,  these. 

thirl'd,  thrilled,  vibrated;  enslaved. 

thole,  to  endure. 

thowe,  a  thaw ;  to  thaw. 

thraw,  to  oppose,  to  resist. 

thrawin-brow,  cross-grained,  per- 
verse. 

thraws,  death-pangs,  last  agonies. 

threesome,  a  trio. 

thretty,  thirty. 

thripplin  -  kame.  See  ripplin- 
karne. 

thrums,  the  sound  of  a  spinning- 
wheel  in  motion  ;  ends  of  threads. 

thuds,  blows,  sounding  knocks. 

Tibbie,  Elizabeth. 

till,  until. 

till't,  unto  it ;  tilled. 

timmer,  timber  ;  a  timmer  -  tun'd 
person  is  one  devoid  of  musical 
perception,  or  who  sings  out  of  tune. 

tine,  tyne,  to  lose. 

tinkler,  a  tinker. 

tint,  lost. 

tirl,  tirl'd,  to  knock,  to  rattle,  rat- 
tled ;  tirl'd  at  the  pin,  rattled  the 
door-latch. 

tither,  the  other. 

tocher,  marriage  portion  ;  to  endow. 

tocher- band,  the  marriage  contract. 

tod,  a  fox. 

to-fa',  the  fall  of  the  year;  a  lean-to 
building  against  a  house,  a  refuge. 

toom,  toom'd,  empty,  to  empty ; 
emptied. 

toop,  tup,  a  ram. 

toss,  a  toast,  a  fashionable  beauty. 

toun,  a  farm  enclosure. 

tours,  turf. 

tousie,  rough,  shaggy. 

tow,  flax ;  a  rope. 

towmond,  twelve  months. 

towsing,  teasing,  romping,  ruffling. 

tozie,  flushed  with  liquor;  crapulous. 

trews,  trousers,  breeches. 

trig,  neat,  spruce. 

trinklin,  trinkling,  dropping. 

troggin,  small  wares,  a  pedlar's  stock- 
in-trade. 

trowse,  trousers. 

trow't,  believed. 


GLOSSARY 


trowth,  in  truth. 

tryste,  an  engagement  to  meet  at 
a  particular  place,  an  appointment; 
a  cattle-market. 

trysted,  trusted,  engaged  to  meet. 

twa,  twae,  two. 

'twad,  it  would. 

twa-fauld,  twofold ;  bent  in  double. 

twal-hundred,  linen  of  1200  divi- 
sions, not  so  fine  as  that  of  1700. 

Tyesday,  Tuesday. 

tyke,  a  mongrel  dog ;  a  rough  un- 
cultured person. 

unco,  strange,  not  allied,  alien. 

unfauld,  to  unfold. 

usque  or  usgie,  Celt,   for   water  = 

whisky;  usquebah  =  water  of  life 

or  whisky. 

vera,  very. 

vittle,  victuals,  food. 

vogie,  vain,  proud. 

wa',  a  wall;  at  the  wa',  in  desperate 
circumstances. 

wab,  a  web. 

wabster,  a  weaver. 

wad,  would. 

wadset,  a  pledge,  a  mortgage. 

waefu',  woeful! 

wair'd,  worn. 

wale,  the  choice  ;  to  choose,  to  select. 

walie,  ample,  large. 

wallop,  to  dangle,  to  move  quickly. 

waly,  an  interjection  of  distress. 

wan,  won  ;  pale,  dark-coloured. 

wap,  to  wrap,  to  envelop,  to  cover. 

warlock,  a  wizard,  one  familiar  with 
the  devil. 

warlock- knowe,  a  knoll  reputed  to 
be  haunted. 

warly,  worldly. 

warpin-  wheel,  a  part  of  the  spinning- 
wheel. 

warsle,  warstle,  to  wrestle. 

wat,  wet ;  to  wot. 

waught,  a  long  drink. 

wauk,  to  wake. 

waukens,  wakens. 

waukrife,  sleepless,  in  a  light  sleep. 

waur,  worse. 

wean,  a  child. 

weapon-shaw,  an  exhibition  of  arms; 
lit.  showing  the  weapons. 

wee,  small,  little ;  a  short  time. 


weel,  well. 

weel-faured,  well-favoured. 

weel-stockit,  well-stocked. 

weet,  wet. 

westlin,  westerly. 

wha's,  who  is. 

whan,  when. 

whar,  whare,  whaur,  where. 

what  reck,  what  matter. 

whaup,  a  curlew. 

whiles,  sometimes. 

whirrin,  the  sound'  produced  by  the 
wings  of  a  flying  bird. 

whiskin,  sweeping,  lashing. 

whittle,  a  knife ;  to  cut. 

wi',  with. 

widdifu',  peevish,  angry ;  worthy  of 
the  gallows. 

wight,  a  sturdy  person. 

wighter,  stronger. 

wil'd,  wyl'd,  enticed,  artfully  cap- 
tured. 

wimple,  a  winding  or  folding. 

wimpling,  winding,  meandering  (of 
a  course). 

wi'm,  with  him. 

winna,  will  not. 

winnins,  means,  earnings. 

wi't,  with  it. 

witha',  with  all. 

won,  to  win,  to  dwell ;  to  dry  by  ex- 
posure to  the  air. 

wonn'd,  lived,  dwelt ;  garnered. 

wons,  dwells,  lives. 

woo',  wool. 

woodie,  dim.  of  wud. 

wrack,  to  vex,  to  trouble,  to  con- 
tradict. 

wud,  a  wood ;  mad,  distracted,  out- 
rageous. 

wylin,  enticing,  wheedling,  beguiling. 

wyte,  the  blame ;  to  blame. 


yaud,  an  old  mare. 

yerd,  a  yard,  an  enclosure. 

yerl,  an  earl. 

ye'se,  ye  shall. 

yestreen,  last  evening  or  night. 

yett,  a  gate. 

yeuks,  the  itch  ;  a  kind  of  eczema. 

yill,  ale. 

yird,  earth,  the  soil. 

yon,  yonder,  over  there ;  used  equiv. 

'yont,  beyond. 

yowe,  a  ewe. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES 

THE  FIRST  LINE  OF  THE  CHORUS  is  PRINTED  IN  ITALIC 

PAGES 

Verse  Notes 

Adieu!  a  heart -warm,  fond  adieu          .  .  .  214  .  442 

Adown  winding  Nith  I  did  wander        .  .  .  52  .  369 

Ae  fond  kiss,  and  then  we  sever             .  .  .81.  379 

A  fig  for  those  by  law  protected              .  ..  .  229  .  447 

*Aften  hae  I  play'd  at  the  cards             .  .  330  .  494 

Again  rejoicing  Nature  sees       .             .  .  68  .  375 

Ah,  Chloris,  since  it  may  not  be            .  .  89  .  382 

A  Highland  lad  my  love  was  born        .  .  .  224  .  446 

A  lassie  all  alone            .            .             .  .  .  238  .  452 

Altho'  my  back  be  at  the  wa'    .             .  .  65  .  374 

Altho'  my  bed  were  in  yon  muir            .  .  .         3  •  351 

Altho'  thou  maun  never  be  mine            .  .  .  15  .  356 

Amang  the  trees,  where  humming  bees  .  .  230  .  447 

Ance  crowdie,  twice  croivdie      .             .  .  .  195  .  428 

Ance  mair  I  hail  thee    .             .             .  .  .  80  .  379 

An1  C har lie,  he1  s  my  darling   .             .  .  .  285  .  472 

And  for  a^^ld  lang  syne,  my  jo               .  .  .  208  .  433 

And  P II  kiss  thee  yet,  yet           .             .  .  55  •  37° 

And  maun  I  still  on  Menie  doat           .  .  .  68  .  375 

Anna,  thy  charms  my  bosom  fire           .  .  .  21  .  357 

An?  O,forane-and-twentyy  Tarn           .  .  .  169  .  415 

An'  0  my  Eppie            .             .             .  .  .  115  .  394 

*A  nobleman  liv'd         .....  349  .  503 

An  somebody  were  come  again              .  .  .  273  .  467 

An  ye  had  been  where  I  hae  been          .  .  .  282  .  471 

A  rosebud  by  my  early  walk     .  .  30  .  362 

As  down  the  burn  they  took  their  way  .  .  132  .  400 

*As  I  cam  down  by  yon  castle  wa'        .  .  .  323  .  491 

As  I  cam  down  the  banks  o'  Nith         .  .  .  240  .  453 

As  I  came  o'er  the  Cairney  mount        .  .  287  .  473 

As  I  gaed  down  the  water-side              .  .  .  105  .  389 

As  I  gaed  up  by  yon  gate-end  .             .  ..  .  23  .  358 

*As  I  lay  on  my  bed  on  a  night  .  345  .  501 

As  I  stood  by  yon  roofless  tower           .        .     .  .  238  .  452 

As  I  was  walking  up  the  street             .  .  .  146  .  407 

*As  I  went  out  ae  May  morning            .  .  325  .  492 

*As  late  by  a  sodger  I  chanced  to  pass  .  .  148  .  408 

A  slave  to  love's  unbounded  sway         .  .  .  47  .  367 

A'  the  lads  o'  Thornie-bank      .             .  .  203  .  431 

Awa,  Whigs,  awa        .....  260  .  461 

Awa  wi"*  your  belles  and  your  beauties  .  52  .  369 

Awa  wi'  your  witchcraft             .             .  .  .  177  .  418 

Ay,waukin,0.            .            .            .  .  133  .  401 

Bannocks  <?'  bear  meal  .                        .  .  .  269  .  465 

Behind  yon  hills  where  Lugar  flows      .  .  12  .  354 

Behold,  my  love,  how  green  the  groves  .  94  .  383 


52° 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

Behold  the  hour,  the  boat  arrive 

•      77 

•     378 

Blythe,  blythe  and  merry  was  she 

.      29 

•     361 

Blythe  hae  I  been  on  yon  hill    . 

•       39 

•     364 

Bonie  lassie,  will  ye  go  . 

.     104 

•     389 

Bonie  wee  thing,  cannie  wee  thing 

•       41 

-     365 

Braw,  braw  lads  on  Yarrow  braes 

.     125 

•     397 

But  lately  seen  in  gladsome  green 

.     306 

•    483 

But  warily  tent  when  ye  come  to  court  me 

.     170 

•    4X5 

Buy  braw  troggin          .... 

•     255 

•    459 

By  Allan  stream  I  chanc'd  to  rove 

•     130 

.     400 

By  Oughtertyre  grows  the  aik  . 

.       29 

.     361 

By  love  and  by  beauty  .... 

.     115 

-     394 

By  yon  castle  wa'           .... 

.     283 

.     472 

Ca  the  yowes  to  the  knowes 

.     105 

•     3^9 

Ca  the  y  owes  to  the  knowes' 

.     108 

•     390 

Can  I  cease  to  care        .... 

.       87 

.     381 

Canst  thon  leave  me  thus 

.     146 

.     407 

Can  ye  leave  me  so,  laddie 

•     503 

Carl,  an  the  king  come  .... 

•     273 

.     467 

Cauld  blaws  the  wind   .... 

.     301 

.     480 

Cauld  is  the  e'enin  blast 

.     174 

.     416 

Clarinda,  mistress  of  my  soul    . 

.       78 

•     378 

Cockabendy       ..... 

•     5°3 

Come  boat  me  o'er        .... 

•     277 

.     469 

Come,  bumpers  high  !  express  your  joy 

.     216 

•     443 

Come,  let  me  take  thee  to  my  breast     . 

97 

•     385 

*Comin  thro'  the  craigs  o'  Kyle 

•     344 

.     501 

Comin  thro'  the  rye,  poor  body 

.     140 

.     406 

Contented  wi'  little  and  cantie  wi'  mair 

.     217 

.    444 

Corn  rigs,  and  barley  rigs 

.        6 

•     352 

Deluded  swain,  the  pleasure 

.     207 

•    432 

Dire  was  the  hate  at  old  Harlaw 

.     258 

.    460 

Does  haughty  Gaul  invasion  threat 

.     236 

•     452 

Duncan  Gray  cam  here  to  woo 

.     160 

.    412 

Fair  Emma        ..... 



•     5°3 

Fairest  maid  on  Devon  banks   . 

ii 

•     354 

Farewell,  thou  fair  day              .             .             .    • 

•     254 

•     458 

Farewell,  thou  stream  that  winding  flows 

.      46 

•     367 

Farewell  to  a'  our  Scottish  fame 

.     242 

•     454 

Farewell  to  the  Highlands 

.     240 

•     453 

Farewell,  ye  dungeons  dark  and  strong 

.     292 

•     475 

Fate  gave  the  word,  the  arrow  sped 

•      35 

-     363 

First  when  Maggie  was  my  care 

.     187 

.     421 

Flow  gently,  sweet  Afton 

.      60 

•     372 

For  a  that,  an*  a'  that  .... 

.     228 

•    447 

For  a?  that,  an  a'  that  .... 

.     290 

•    474 

For  a  that,  an  d  that  .... 

.      69 

•     375 

For  «'  the  joys  that  gowd  can  gie 
For  aiild  lang  syne,  my  dear     . 

51 

.     209 

.     368 

•     438 

For  auld  lang  syne,  my  jo 

.     208 

•     433 

Forlorn  my  love,  no  comfort  near 

97 

.     385 

For  thee  is  laughing  Nature  gay 

•      75 

•    377 

INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES  521 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

For  weel  he  kend  the  way,  0     . 

.     174     . 

417 

Frae  the  friends  and  land  I  love 

.     286     . 

473 

From  thee  Eliza,  I  must  go 

.       26     . 

359 

From  the  white-blossom'd  sloe 

.       82     . 

380 

Full  well  thou  know'st  I  love  thee,  dear 

ii     . 

354 

Fy,  let  us  a'  to  Kirkcudbright  . 

.     250     . 

457 

Gane  is  the  day              .... 

.     216     . 

443 

Gat  ye  me,  O  gat  ye  me 

.     179     • 

418 

Go,  fetch  to  me  a  pint  o'  wine  . 

•     T34     • 

402 

Green  grow  the  rashes,  0           .             .             . 

.       102       . 

388 

Guide'en  to  you,  kimmer 

.       200      . 

430 

Had  I  a  cave     ..... 

5     • 

SS2* 

Had  I  the  wyte              .... 

.     178     . 

418 

Hark  the  mavis'  e'ening  sang    . 

.     1  08     . 

390 

He  clench'd  his  pamphlets  in  his  fist     . 

•     307     • 

484 

Hee  balou,  my  sweet  wee  Donald 

4°3 

Her  daddie  forbad,  her  minnie  forbad  . 

.     160     . 

411 

Here  awa,  there  awa,  wandering  Willie 

.     128     . 

398 

Her  flowing  locks  the  raven's  wing 
Here  is  the  glen,  and  here  the  bower     . 

5    • 
•      53     • 

369 

Here  's  a  bottle  and  an  honest  friend    . 

.       212      . 

442 

Here  's  a  health  to  ane  I  We  dear 

15      . 

356 

Here  's  a  health  to  them  that  's  awa 

.       268      . 

465 

Here  's  to  thy  health,  my  bonie  lass 

.       150      • 

408 

Hey  cd  thro\  cat  thro'  .... 

•       215      . 

443 

Hey  Donald,  how  Donald 

•     343     • 

500 

Hey  Johnie  Cope,  are  ye  wauking  yet  . 

•     274     • 

467 

Hey  the  dusty  miller     .... 

.     161     . 

412 

Hey  tutti,  taiti  .             .             .             .             . 

.     203     . 

43  ! 

How  can  my  poor  heart  be  glad 

.     234     . 

45i 

How  cruel  are  the  parents 

.     117     . 

395 

How  long  and  dreary  is  the  night 

.       19     . 

357 

How  pleasant  the  banks 

.       24     . 

358 

Husband,  husband,  cease  your  strife 

•     194    • 

427 

I  am  a  bard  of  no  regard 

.     228     . 

447 

I  am  a  fiddler  to  my  trade 

.     225     . 

447 

I  am  a  son  of  Mars        .... 

.       220      . 

445 

I  am  my  mammy's  ae  bairn 

•       157       • 

410 

I  bought  my  wife  a  stane  o'  lint 

.       192       . 

426 

I  coft  a  stane  o'  haslock  woo'   . 

.       198       . 

429 

I  do  confess  thou  art  sae  fair     . 

.       120      . 

396 

I  dream'd  I  lay  where  flowers  . 

.       29I       . 

475 

I  fee'd  a  man  at  Martinmas 

•       131       • 

400 

*If  I  be  black,  I  canna  be  lo'ed 

.       149       . 

408 

If  thou  should  ask  my  love 

.       1  08       . 

39° 

If  ye  gae  up  to  yon  hill-tap 

5  -  • 

352 

I  gaed  a  waefu'  gate  yestreen    . 

.      38    • 

364 

I  gaed  up  to  Dunse        .... 

.     162     . 

412 

I  had  sax  owsen  in  a  pleugh 

.     218     . 

444 

I  hae  a  wife  o'  my  ain  .... 

72     . 

376 

I  hae  been  at  Crookieden 

.     284    . 

472 

Ilk  care  and  fear,  when  thou  art  near   . 

•      55    • 

370 

522 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

/'//  ay  ca1  in  by  yon  town 

.       93     . 

382 

I'm  o'er  young,  I'm  o'er  young 

.     157     . 

410 

I  murder  hate  by  field  or  flood 

.     163     . 

4T3 

In  comin  by  the  brig  o'  Dye 

.     213     . 

442 

I  never  saw  a  fairer 

.     194    . 

428 

In  Mauchline  there  dwells 

.      66     . 

374 

In  simmer,  when  the  hay  was  mawn 

.       122      . 

396 

In  Tarbolton,  ye  ken     . 

I      . 

35r 

I  once  was  a  maid 

.       221      . 

446 

/  rede  you,  beware  at  the  hunting 

.       154      . 

409 

I  see  a  form,  I  see  a  face 

.         90      . 

382 

I  sing  of  a  whistle 

.      204      . 

431 

Is  there  for  honest  poverty 

.       290      . 

474 

Is  this  thy  plighted,  fond  regard 

.       I46      . 

407 

I  tell  you  now  this  ae  night 

•       143      • 

406 

It  is  na,  Jean,  thy  bonie  face     . 

.         72      . 

376 

It  's  now  the  day  is  dawin 

.       207      . 

43  2 

"*  *It's  up  wi'  the  souters  o'  Selkirk 

.      321       . 

490 

*It  's  whisper'd  in  parlour 

•      348      • 

502 

It  was  a'  for  our  rightfu'  king  . 

.      278      . 

469 

It  was  in  sweet  Senegal 

.      297      . 

479 

It  was  the  charming  month  of  May 

.      99     . 

386 

It  was  upon  a  Lammas  night    . 

6     . 

352 

Jamie,  come  try  me 

.     108-  . 

390 

Jockie  's  taen  the  parting  kiss    . 
John  Anderson  my  jo,  John 

•     145     • 
.     189    . 

407 
424 

Ken  ye  ought  o'  Captain  Grose 

Lady  Onlie,  honest  hicky 

Landlady,  count  the  lawin 

Lang  hae  we  parted  been  . 

*Lassie,  lend  me  your  braw  hemp  heckle 

Lassie  wi'  the  lint-white  locks  . 

Last  May  a  braw  wooer 

Let  loove  sparkle  in  her  e'e 

Let  me  ryke  up  to  dight  that  tear 

Let  not  woman  e'er  complain    . 

Long,  long  the  night 

Loud  blaw  the  frosty  breezes    . 

Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee 

Lovely  was  she  by  the  dawn 

Mally  's  meek,  Mally  's  sweet    . 

Mark  yonder  pomp  of  costly  fashion     . 

Meet  me  on  the  warlock  knowe . 

Musing  on  the  roaring  ocean     . 

My  bonie  lass,  I  work  in  brass  . 

My  coggie,  Sirs,  my  coggie,  Sirs 

My  daddie  was  a  fiddler  fine     . 

My  father  was  a  farmer 

My  Harry  was  a  gallant  gay 

My  heart  is  a-breaking,  dear  Tittie 

My  heart  is  sair — I  darena  tell 


299    •    479 


203 

203 

129 

182 

96 

1  80 

117 

225 

99 

87 

275 

73 

99 

146 

89 

123 


2OI 
183 
303 

272 

168 


431 
43i 
399 
420 

384 
419 

395 
447 
386 
381 
468 

377 
386 

407 
382 
396 
362 

447 
431 
420 
482 
467 
414 
4°5 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


523 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

My  heart  is  wae,  and  unco  wae 

.     276     . 

469 

My  heart  's  in  the  Highlands  .             .         -    . 

.     241     . 

453 

My  heart  was  ance  as  blythe  and  free   . 

.       18     . 

356 

My  lady's  gown,  there  '  's  gairs  uporft    . 

•     153     • 

409 

My  lord  a-hunting  he  is  gane    . 

•     153     • 

409 

My  love,  she  's  but  a  lassie  yet  .             .             . 
My  love  was  born  in  Aberdeen 

.     162     . 

.     271     . 

466 

My  luve  is  like  a  red,  red  rose  . 

.-     137     • 

4°3 

My  Peggie's  face,  my  Peggie's  form 

,          2.8       . 

36r 

My  Sandy  gied  to  me  a  ring 

.       IOI       . 

387 

My  Sandy  0,  my  Sandy  O 

.       IOI       . 

387 

My  wife  's  a  wanton  wee  thing             % 

.     196     . 

428 

*Nae  birdies  sang  the  mirky  hour 

.   340   . 

499 

Nae  gentle  dames,  tho'  ne'er  sae  fair 

.      61     . 

372 

*Near  Edinburgh  was  a  young  son  bora 

•     335     • 

496 

Near  me,  near  me          .... 

.     129     . 

399 

No  churchman  am  I 

.       211       . 

441 

No  cold  approach,  no  alter'd  mien 

.       302       . 

481 

Now  haply  down  yon  gay  green  shaw  . 

.         98       . 

385 

Now  in  her  green  mantle 

.          78       . 

378 

Now  Nature  deeds  the  flowery  lea 

.         96      . 

384 

Now  Nature  hangs  her  mantle  green 

.       261       . 

461 

Now  rosy  May  comes  in  wi'  flowers 

•       123       . 

396 

Now  simmer  blinks  on  flow'ry  braes 

.       104       . 

389 

Now  spring  has  clad  the  grove  in  green 

33     • 

363 

Now  westlin  winds         .... 

10     . 

354 

0,anyeweredead,gudeman     . 

.     191     . 

426 

0,  ay  my  wife  she  dang  me 

.     197     . 

428 

O,  bonie  was  yon  rosy  brier 

.       91     . 

382 

O,  cam  ye  here  the  fight  to  shun 

.     262     . 

462 

0,  can  ye  labor  lea,  young  man 

•     I31     • 

400 

*0,  dear  minny,  what  shall  I  do 

.     149     . 

408 

O,  Donald  Couper  and  his  man 

•     343     • 

500 

O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather 

•     344     • 

501 

Of  a'  the  airts  the  wind  can  blaw 

.       70     . 

375 

0  ,  for  him  back  again    .... 

•     273     . 

467 

*O,  for  my  ain  king,  quo'  gude  Wallace 

•     333    • 

494 

*O,  Galloway  Tarn  cam  here  to  woo     . 

.     185     . 

421 

0,  gude  ale  comes,  and  gude  ale  goes 
*O,  heard  ye  of  a  silly  harper    . 

.     218     . 
.     338     • 

444 
499 

O,  he  's  a  ranting,  roving  lad   . 
O,  how  can  1  be  blythe  and  glad 

.     271     . 
.       71     . 

466 
376 

O,  how  shall  I,  unskilfu',  try 

.      42     . 

365 

O,  I  am  come  to  the  low  countrie 

.     278     . 

469 

*O,  I  forbid  you  maidens  a'       . 

.     328     . 

492 

0,  Jenny  's  a'  weet,poor  body 

.     141     . 

406 

0,John,  come  kiss  me  now 

.     1  88     . 

422 

O,  Kenmure  's  on  and  awa',  Willie 

.     265     . 

464 

O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill  has  gotten 

.     172     . 

4-16 

O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill  has  gotten 

•     173     • 

416 

O,  Lady  Mary  Ann        .... 

•     3i7     • 

488 

O  lassie,  are  ye  sleepin  yet         . 

.     142     . 

406 

524  INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


PAGES 

» 

Verse 

Notes 

0,  lay  thy  I  oof  in  mine,  lass 

-      47 

•     367 

O,  leave  novels,  ye  Mauchline  belles     . 

8 

•     353 

O,  leeze  me  on  my  spinnin-wheel 

.     300 

.     480 

0,  let  me  in  this  ae  night 

.     142 

.     406 

O  Logan,  sweetly  didst  thou  glide 

•     252 

•     458 

O,  lovely  Polly  Stewart 

•       25 

•     358 

O,  luve  will  venture  in  . 

.     116 

•     394 

O  Mary,  at  thy  window  be 

.       58 

•     37i 

O  May,  thy  morn  was  ne'er  sae  sweet 

•      79 

•     379 

O,  meikle  thinks  my  luve  o'  my  beauty 

.     166 

.    414 

O,  merry  hae  I  been  teethin  a  heckle 

•     i52 

•     4°9 

O,  mirk,  mirk  is  this  midnight  hour 

.     126 

•     398 

0,  mount  and  go             .... 

.       100 

•    391 

0,  my  bonie  Highland  lad 

.     287 

•    473 

On  a  bank  of  flowers  in  a  summer  day 

.     106 

.     390 

On  Cessnock  banks  a  lassie  dwells 

.      56 

•     37° 

One  night  as  I  did  wander 

•     297 

•     479 

On  peace  an'  rest  my  mind  was  bent 

•     J97 

.    428 

On  the  seas  and  far  away 

•     234 

•    451 

O,  once  I  lov'd  a  bonie  lass 

i 

•     351 

O,  open  the  door  some  pity  to  show 

.     128 

O  Philly,  happy  be  that  day 

50 

368 

O,  poortith  cauld  and  restless  love 

95 

•     384 

O,  raging  fortune's  withering  blast 

.     293 

•    477 

O,  rattlin,  roarin  Willie 

.       212 

.    441 

Orthodox  !  orthodox  !  wha  believe  in  John  Knox 

•       308 

.    484 

O,  saw  ye  bonie  Lesley 

44 

.    366 

O,  saw  ye  my  dearie,  my  Eppie  McNab 
O,  saw  ye  my  dear,  my  Philly    . 

.     114 
.     136 

•     394 
-    403 

O,  some  will  court  and  compliment 

.     1  88 

.    422 

O,  stay,  sweet  warbling  woodlark,  stay 

•     "3 

•     393 

O,  steer  her  up  and  haud  her  gaun 

•     175 

•    41? 

O,  tell  na  me  o'  wind  an'  rain    . 

•     H3 

.     406 

O,  that  I  had  ne'er  been  married 

•     J95 

.    428 

*O,  that  I  were  where  Helen  lies 

•     337 

-    497 

O,  that  'j  the  lassie  0'  my  heart 

92 

.    382 

O,  thou  pale  Orb            .... 

•      67 

•    374 

0  Tibbie,  I  hae  seen  the  day 

4 

•     352 

*Our  lords  are  to  the  mountains  gane    . 

.     321 

.    490 

Our  thrissles  flourish'd  fresh  and  fair     . 

.     260 

.     461 

*Our  young  lady  's  a-huntin  gane 

•     332 

•     494 

Out  over  the  Forth,  I  look  to  the  north 

75 

•    377 

0,  wat  ye  wha  's  in  yon  town    .             . 

.      98 

-     385 

O,  wat  ye  wha  that  lo'es  me 

92 

.     382 

O,  were  I  on  Parnassus'  hill 

•      74 

•    377 

O,  were  my  love  yon  lilac  fair 

.     132 

.    401 

O,  wert  thou  in  the  cauld  blast 

54 

.     369 

0,  wert  thou,  love,  but  near  me 

•      97 

.    385 

O,  wha  my  babie  clouts  will  buy 

9 

•     353 

O,  whar  gat  ye  that  hauver-meal  bannock 

.     103 

•     388 

O,  wha  will  to  Saint  Stephen's  house     . 
O,  when  she  came  ben,  she  bobbed  fu'  law 

.     232 
.     171 

'     45< 
.     416 

*O,  where  hae  ye  been  Lord  Ronald      . 

•     324 

.     491 

0,  whistle  an"  Pit  come  to  ye,  my  lad    , 
O,  why  sho^tld  Fate  sic  pleasure  have    , 

.     170 
•      95 

•    4'5 

•     384 

INDEX   OF    FIRST    LINES 


525 


O,  Willie  brew'd  a  peck  o'  maut 

O,  wilt  thou  go  wi'  me,  sweet  Tibbie  Dunbar 

Peg  Nicholson  was  a  good  bay  mare    . 

Raving  winds  around  her  blowing 

Robin  shure  in  hairst    . 

Robin  was  a  rovin  boy  . 

*Rob  Roy  from  the  Highlands  cam 

*Rob  Roy  was  my  father  ca'd    . 

Sae  flaxen  were  her  ringlets 

Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled 

See  the  smoking  bowl  before  us 

Sensibility  how  charming 

She  is  a  winsome  wee  thing       .  , 

*She  play'd  the  loon  or  she  was  married 

*She  sat  down  below  a  thorn     .          .  . 

She  's  fair  and  fause  that  causes  my  smart 

*She  was  cut-luggit,  painch-lippit 

Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 

Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 

Simmer 's  a  pleasant  time 

Sing  hey  my  braw  John  Highlandman 

*Sir  John  Cope  trode  the  north  right  far 

Sir  Wisdom  's  a  fool  when  he  's  fou 

Sleep'st  thou,  or  wak'st  thou 

Stay,  my  charmer,  can  you  leave  me     . 

Sweet  are  the  banks — the  banks  o'  Doon 

Sweet  fa's  the  eve  on  Craigieburn 

The  auld  marfs  mare 's  dead    . 

The  bairns  gat  out  wi'  an  unco  shout    . 

The  blude-red  rose  at  Yule  may  blaw   . 

The  boniest  lad  that  e'er  I  saw 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  Oho  !  Oho  ! 

The  cardin  o't,  the  spinnin  ot 

The  Catrine  woods  were  yellow  seen     . 

*The  collier  has  a  dochter 

The  cooper  o'  Cuddie  came  here  awa    . 

The  day  returns,  my  bosom  burns 

The  deil  cam  fiddlin  thro'  the  town 

The  deil 's  awa,  the  deil 's  awa . 

The  flower  it  blaws,  it  fades,  it  fa's 

The  gloomy  night  is  gath'ring  fast 

The  heather  was  blooming 

THE  JOLLY  BEGGARS    . 

The  laddies  by  the  banks  o'  Nith 

The  lang  lad  they  ca?  fampin  John 

The  lazy  mist  hangs  from  the  brow 

The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness 

The  noble  Maxwells  and  their  powers 

The  ploughman,  he 's  a  bonie  lad 

The  Robin  cam  to  the  Wren's  nest 


PAGES 

Verse      Notes 

2IO       .       440 

34     •     363 


486 


295 

.  478 

162 

.  412 

289 

•  473 

342 

.  500 

342 

.  500 

86 

.  381 

293 

•  475 

231 

.  448 

229 

•  447 

82 

•  379 

194 

.  428 

196 

.  428 

347 

.  502 

32 

.  362 

346 

.  502 

208 

•  433 

209 

.  438 

133 

.  401 

224 

.  446 

274 

.  467 

223 

.  446 

84 

.  380 

17 

•  356 

in 

•  39i 

85 

.  381 

346 

.  502 

193 

.  427 

159 

.  411 

282 

.  472 

3J9 

.  488 

198 

.  429 

16 

•  356 

1  86 

.  421 

199 

.  429 

36 

•  363 

202 

431 

202 

43  * 

25 

•  358 

294 

•  477 

154 

.  409 

219 

•  444, 

239 

•  453 

160 

.  411 

298 

•  479 

281 

.  471 

272 

.  467 

138 

.  404 

182 

.  419 

526 


INDEX   OF    FIRST   LINES 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

The  small  birds  rejoice 

.     270     . 

466 

The  smiling  spring  comes  in  rejoicing 

.     118     . 

395 

The  sun  he  is  sunk  in  the  west 

.     288     . 

473 

The  taylor  fell  thro'  the  bed       . 

.     151     . 

409 

The  taylor  he  cam  here  to  sew 

.     174     . 

4*7 

The  Thames  flows  proudly  to  the  sea    . 

.     243     . 

454 

The  wean  wants  a  cradle 

.     184     . 

420 

The  weary  pttnd,  the  weary  pund 

.     192     . 

426 

The  winter  it  is  past      .... 

.     140     . 

406 

The  wintry  west  extends  his  blast 

•     305     • 

483 

Their  groves  o'  sweet  myrtle 

-       og 

38i 

Then,  gudewife,  count  the  lawin 

.'    216    .' 

443 

Then  hey  for  a  lass  wf  a  tocher 

.    177   . 

418 

Theniel  Menzies  bonie  Mary    . 

.    213    . 

442 

Then  up  wft  a',  my  ploughman  lad 
There  grows  a  bonie  brier-bush 

:  32: 

404 

470 

There  lived  a  carl  in  Kellyburn  braes    . 

.    312    . 

486 

*  There  liv'd  a  man  in  yonder  glen 

.    318    . 

488 

There  's  auld  Rob  Morris           .        •     . 

.    127    . 

398 

There  's  a  youth  in  this  city 

.    165    • 

414 

*There  's  cauld  kail  in  Aberdeen 

.       201       . 

43i 

There  's  nane  shall  ken  .... 

93 

382 

There  's  news,  lasses,  news 

.     184    . 

420 

There  's  nought  but  care  on  ev'ry  han'  . 

.       102       . 

388 

There  's  sax  eggs  in  the  pan,  gudeman  . 

.       IQI       . 

426 

There  's  three  true  gude  fellows 

.       207      . 

432 

*There  was  a  battle  in  the  North 

.       326      . 

492 

There  was  a  bonie  lass  .             . 

.       147       . 

408 

There  was  a  lad  was  born  in  Kyle 

.       289      . 

473 

There  was  a  lass,  and  she  was  fair 

.      49    . 

368 

There  was  a  lass,  they  ca'd  her  Meg     . 

.     158    . 

410 

There  was  a  wife  wonn'd  in  Cockpen    . 

.     188     . 

423 

There  was  five  carlins  in  the  South 

.     246     . 

455 

There  was  on  a  time      .... 

•     235     . 

452 

There  was  three  kings  into  the  east 

•     3M     - 

487 

They  snool  me  sair,  and  baud  me  down 

.     169     . 

4*5 

Thickest  night,  surround  my  dwelling 

•     279     • 

470 

Thine  am  I,  my  faithful  fair 

.       76     • 

378 

This  is  no  my  ain  lassie 

.       90     . 

382 

Tho'  cruel  fate  should  bid  us  part 

.       64     . 

373 

Thou  hast  left  me  ever,  Jamie  . 

.     138     . 

404 

Thou  ling'ring  star  with  less'ning  ray    . 

62     . 

372 

Tho'  women's  minds  like  winter  winds 

.      69     . 

375 

To  daunton  me,  to  daunton  me 

.     159     . 

411 

To  the  weavers  gin  ye  go,  fair  maids 

356 

True-hearted  was  he 

13 

355 

*J%J*.> 

Turn  again,  thou  fair  Eliza 

.      48     . 

367 

*Twa  bonie  lads  were  Sandy  and  Jockie 
'Twas  even  —  the  dewy  fields  were  green 

•     320     . 

22       . 

490 
358 

'Twas  in  the  seventeen  hunderd  year 

•       256      . 

459 

'Twas  na  her  bonie  blue  e'e  was  my  ruin 

95     • 

383 

'Twas  on  a  Monday  morning     . 

•     285     . 

472 

*'Twas  past  one  o'clock 

.     144     . 

407 

Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie 


266 


465 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


527 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

Up  and  ivaur  them  a\  Jamie    . 

.     239     . 

453 

Up  in  the  morning^  s  no  for  me             . 

.     301     • 

480 

*Upon  the  Lomonds  I  lay,  I  lay 

•     319     • 

489 

Up  wi'  the  carls  o'  Dysart 

.     215     . 

443 

Wae  is  my  heart            .... 

.     141     . 

406 

Wantonness  for  evermair 

.     181     . 

419 

Wap  and  rowe,  wap  and  rowe  . 

-     183     . 

420 

We  are  naefou,  were  nae  that  foil 

.       2IO      . 

440 

Weary  fa'  you,  Duncan  Gray              •    . 

•       155       ' 

410 

Wee  Willie  Gray  and  his  leather  wallet 

•       307       • 

483 

Will  hide  the  cooper  behint  the  door     . 

.       199      . 

429 

We'll  o'er  the  water,  we'll  o'er  the  sea  . 

.       277       . 

469 

Wire  a1  noddin             .... 

.       200      . 

43° 

Wha  in  a  brulzie            .... 

.       269      . 

465 

Wha  is  that  at  my  bower  door  . 

.       I64      . 

4J3 

Wham  will  we  send  to  London  town    . 

•       257       . 

459 

Whare  are  you  gaun,  my  bonie  lass 

.       I67       . 

414 

Whare  hae  ye  been  sae  braw,  lad 

.       282       . 

47i 

Whare  live  ye,  my  bonie  lass     . 

.       121       . 

396 

Wha  's  fou  now,  my  jo                ... 



5°3 

What  can  a  young  lassie 

.       176       . 

417 

*What  merriment  has  taen  the  Whigs  . 

•       336      • 

497 

What  will  T  do  gin  my  hoggie  die 

.       296      . 

478 

Wha  will  buy  my  troggin 

•       255       . 

459 

When  chill  November's  surly  blast 

.       304      . 

482 

When  first  I  came  to  Stewart  Kyle 

.      66     . 

374 

When  first  my  brave  Johnie  lad 

•     259    . 

461 

When  Guilford  good  our  pilot  stood     . 
When  Januar'  wind  was  blawing  cauld 

.     248    . 

•     3*5     • 

457 
488 

When  lyart  leaves  bestrow  the  yird 

.     219     . 

444 

When  o'er  the  hill  the  e'ening  star 

.     124    . 

397 

When  rosy  May  comes  in  wi'  flowers     . 

.     107     . 

39° 

When  the  drums  do  beat 

.     109    . 

391 

*When  we  gaed  to  the  braes  o'  Mar 

.     266    . 

465 

When  wild  war's  deadly  blast  was  blawn 

.     244     . 

455 

Where  are  the  joys  I  hae  met  in  the  morning    . 

.       100       . 

386 

Where,  braving  angry  winter's  storms  . 

'.     27   . 

360 

Where  Cart  rins  rowin  to  the  sea 

.    119   . 

395 

While  larks  with  little  wing 

•      45     • 

366 

Why,  why  tell  thy  lover 

.      83    . 

380 

Wi'  braw  new  branks  in  meikle  pride   . 

.     156    • 

410 

Willie  Wastle  dwalt  on  Tweed 

.     190    . 

425 

Wilt  thou  be  my  dearie 

.      83    . 

380 

Will  ye  go  to  the  Highlands,  Leezy  Lindsay    . 

•     H3    • 

407 

Will  ye  go  to  the  Indies,  my  Mary 

59    • 

371 

Wishfully  I  look  and  languish  . 

.      41     . 

365 

Within  the  glen  sae  bushy,  0    . 

.      61     . 

372 

Ye  banks  and  braes  and  streams  around 

.      63    . 

373 

Ye  banks  and  braes  o'  bonie  Doon 

.       112      . 

392 

Ye  flowery  banks  o'  bonie  Doon 

.       112       . 

392 

Ye  gallants  bright,  I  rede  you  right 

•      37    • 

364 

Ye  Jacobites  by  name    .... 

.     264    . 

464 

Ye  sons  of  old  Killie     .... 

.    206    . 

432 

528 


INDEX    OF    FIRST    LINES 


PAGES 

Verse 

Notes 

Yestreen  I  had  a  pint  o'  wine     . 

.       40     . 

365 

Yestreen  I  met  you  on  the  moor 

4     • 

352 

Yon  wild  mossy  mountains 

20      . 

357 

Young  Jamie,  pride  of  a'  the  plain 

•       135       • 

402 

Young  Jockie  was  the  blythest  lad 
Young  Peggy  blooms  our  boniest  lass  . 

.       1  10      . 

.     14   . 

39i 

355 

You're  welcome  to  despots,  Dumourier 
You're  welcome,  Willie  Stewart 

.  247  . 

.     216    .. 

456 
443 

Your  friendship  much  can  make  me  blest 

.    76  . 

377 

INDEX  OF  TUNES 


A  bonie  lass       ...... 

A  country  lass  ..... 

Adew  Dundee  (Bonny  Dundee) 
Afton  Water      .  .  . 

Aileen  a  roon  (Robin  Adair)     .... 

Alace  yat  I  came  owr  the  moor  (  The  last  time  I  came 
o'er  the  moor}  ..... 

Allan  Water      .  . 

Andro  and  his  cutty  gun 

An  gille  dubh  ciar  dubh  (The  black  hair'd lad} 

An  ye  had  been  where  I  hae  been 

A  parcel  of  rogues  in  a  nation 

A  rosebud 

As  I  cam  down  by  yon  castle  vva' 

As  I  went  out  ae  May  morning 

Auld  lang  syne  (obsolete  melody) 

Auld  lang  syne  .  . 

Auld  Rob  Morris  (Jock,  the  laird's  brither} 

Auld  Sir  Symon  (Sir  Symon  the  king} 

A  waukrife  minnie          .  .  . 

Awa,  Whigs,  awa  .... 

Ay,  waukin,  O  . 
Ay,  waukin,  O  . 

Bab  at  the  bowster  (  The  country  bumpkin} 
Balin  a  mone     ..... 
Banks  of  Banna  .... 

Banks  of  Cree  ..... 
Banks  of  Spey  ..... 
Bhannerach  dhon  na  chrie  (The  brown  dairy-maid} 
Bonie  Ann  ..... 
Bonie  Bell  ..... 
Bonie  lass  tak  a  man  .... 
Bonie  wee  thing  (Wo  betyd  thy  wearie  bodie}  . 
Bonny  Mary  ..... 
Braes  o'  Balquhidder  .... 
Buy  broom  besoms  .... 

Caledonian  Hunt's  delight  (Banks  o'  Doon) 

Cambdelmore  (Ballendalloch? s  reel} 

Cameronian  rant 

Captain  Cook's  death     . 

Captain  O'Kane 

Carl,  an  the  king  come    . 

Carron  side 

Ca'  the  yowes    . 

Cauldkail    -      . 

Charles  Graham's  welcome  hame 

M  m 


PAGES 

Music 

Notes 

M7 

.  408 

326 

.  492  . 

103 

.  388 

60 

•  S?2 

45 

.  366 

46 

.  367 

130 

.  400 

29 

.  361 

17 

.  356 

282 

.  471 

242 

•  454 

30 

.  362 

323 

.  491 

325 

.  492 

208 

9nn 

•  433 

*~iL_ 

127 

•  3o3 

223 

.  446 

167 

.  414 

260 

87 

48i 

133 

.  401 

i99 

.  429 

177 

.  418 

4o 

•  365 

•  369 

76 

•  377 

24 

•  358 

37 

.  364 

118 

•  395 

145 

.  407 

4i 

•  365 

21 

•  357 

55 

•  370 

255 

•  459 

112 

.  392 

III 

•  392 

262 

.  462 

62 

•  372 

270 

.  466 

273 

.  467 

286 

•  473 

I°5 

-  39° 

201 

•  384 

75 

•  377 

53° 


INDEX    OF    TUNES 


PAGES 

Music 

Notes 

Charlie,  he  's  my  darling            .... 

285     . 

472 

Chevy  Chase  (Scottish)               .... 

246     . 

456 

.    Chevy  Chase  (English)  (Flying  fame,  In  pescod  time  ; 

see  The  hunfs  up}              .... 

456     . 

456 

Clarinda             ...... 

78     • 

378 

Clout  the  caudron           ..... 

226     . 

447 

T^~T* 

Cock  up  your  beaver      .             .             .                          . 

2.59     • 

461 

Cold  frosty  morning  (Chi  mi  ma  chattle) 
Come  kiss  with  me  (Had  I  the  wyte)    . 

144     . 

178     . 

407 
4I» 

Come,  let  us  prepare     ..... 

308     . 

441 

Corn  rigs            ...... 
Cornwallis's  lament       ..... 

6    . 

82    . 

352 

379 

Craigie-burn  Wood        ..... 

85     • 

38i 

Crowdie             ...... 

428 

Culloden             .             .             . 

359    • 

359 

Cumnock  Psalms            ..... 

238     . 

452 

Cushion  Dance              ..... 

430    . 

43° 

Dainty  Davie     .'.... 

289    . 

473 

De'il  tak  the  wars         .            .            .            . 

84    . 

380 

Donald  Couper              ..... 

T^ 

343     • 

O 

500 

Down  the  burn,  Davie  .            . 

132     . 

400 

Druimionn  dubh             .             .             .             .             . 

31     • 

362 

Duncan  Davison  (  Ye'  11  ay  be  welcome  back  again) 
Duncan  Gray     ...... 

58     . 

155     . 

412 

Dusty  miller      ....... 

161    . 

412 

East  Indian  air               ..... 

306    . 

.483 

Eppie  Adair       ...... 

115    . 

394 

Eppie  McNab    ...... 

114    . 

7QA 

Ettrick  Banks    ...... 

22      . 

358 

Ewe-bughts  Marion       ..... 

59    • 

371 

Fee  him,  father,  fee  him            .... 

138  . 

4O4 

Fine  flowers  in  the  valley          .... 

347    • 

502 

Finlayston  house 

35    • 

363 

For  a'  that          ...... 

228    . 

447 

For  a'  that         ...... 

290    . 

474 

For  the  sake  o'  somebody          .... 

T^«  T^ 

4°5 

Fy,  let  us  a'  to  the  bridal  (An  the  kirk  wad  let  me  be) 

250    . 

457 

Gaelic  air  (How  long  and  dreary) 
Gaelic  air  (Turn  again} 

19    . 

48    . 

357 
367 

Galla  Water       

3    . 

352 

Galloway  Tarn  .            .            . 

185     . 

421 

Gilderoy             ...... 

26    . 

359 

Gin  my  love  were  yon  red  rose  (  Under  her  apron) 
Goe  from  my  window    .             .             .             .             .• 
Go  from  my  window,  love,  do  . 

132     . 

502     . 
288    . 

401 
502 
501 

Good  night,  and  joy  be  wi'  you  a'          ... 

214    . 

442 

—    Green  grow  the  rashes,  O  (Grant's  reel.   I  kist  her 

while  she  blush?)     . 

ipa^,  

188- 

Gude  Wallace  
Gudewife,  count  the  lawin         .... 

>  —    —  ••—  AJ«»J 
333    •     4^4 
216    .    443 

INDEX   OF    TUNES . 


531 


PAGES 

Music 

Notes 

Hardy  Knute  (The  Isle  of  Kyle}           ... 
Here  awa,  there  awa      .             .             .             ... 

483     • 
128     . 

Here  's  a  health  to  them  that  's  awa 

268     . 

465 

Hey,  ca'  thro'    ...... 

215     . 

443 

Hey,  tutti  taitie               ..... 

203     . 

Hey,  tutti  taitie              ..... 

231     • 

448 

Highlander's  lament      .             .             .             . 

272     . 

Humours  of  Glen           ..... 

88    . 

81 

Hynde  Horn      .             . 

335    • 

496 

Ian  thy  the  lovely           .            ... 

302     . 

482 

I  dream'd  I  lay  ...... 

291     . 

475 

I  had  a  horse,  and  I  had  nae  mair 

66    . 

374 

I  hae  a  wife  o'  my  ain   ..... 

72     • 

376 

I'll  gae  nae  mair  to  your  town  (  We'll  gang  nae  mair  to 

yon  town)            ..... 

93    • 

382 

I'll  mak  you  be  fain  to  follow  me 

148     . 

408 

I  love  my  love  in  secret              .... 

IOI      . 

387 

I'm  o'er  young  to  marry  yet       .... 

Jj>3L—  '— 

Invercauld's  reel             ..... 

4    - 

35a 

I  rede  ye  beware  o'  the  ripells,  young  man  (Logie  o* 

Buchari)     ...... 

151    . 

409 

I  wish  my  love  were  in  a  mire  .... 

91    . 

382 

Jack  Latin          ...... 

179    . 

418 

Jamie,  come  try  me        .            .            .            .            . 

108     . 

390 

Jenny  dang  the  weaver  (Jenny  beguiFd  the  webster}     . 
Jenny's  lamentation       ..... 

342     • 
320     . 

500 
49° 

Jockey  fou  and  Jenny  fain          .... 

117     . 

395 

Jockey's  gray  breeks      ..... 

68    . 

375 

Jockie  was  the  blythest  lad 

no    . 

391 

John  Anderson  my  jo  John       *           —  r-    •   —  r            t 

180    . 

John,  come  kiss  me  now            .... 

188  : 

422 

Johnie  Blunt      ...... 

318  . 

488 

Johnie  Cope       ...... 
Johnny  McGill  (Come  under  my  plaidie} 
Jolly  mortals,  fill  your  glasses 

274  . 

34    • 
229     . 

467 
363 
447 

Jumpin  John     ...... 

160    . 

411 

Kellyburn  braes             ..... 

312     . 

486 

Kenmure  's  on  and  awa              .... 

265     . 

464 

Killiecrankie     ...... 

232     . 

484 

Laddie,  lie  near  me       ..... 

129    . 

383 

Lady  Catherine  Ogle  (Katherine  Ogie) 

63     • 

373 

Lady  Mary  Ann             ..... 

317     • 

488 

Laggan  burn      ...... 

150    • 

408 

Lament  for  Abercairney             .             .             .             . 

27     . 

360 

Lass,  an  I  come  near  thee          .... 

164    . 

Leezie  Lindsay  ...... 

J43     • 

407 

Lenox  love  to  Blantyre              .... 

54    • 

369 

Let  me  in  this  ae  night  (  Will  ye  lend  me  your  loom,  lass} 

142     . 

407 

Loch  Eroch  Side            ..... 

14    . 

355 

Logan  Water     ...... 

252     . 

458 

Lord  Breadalbine's  March        .... 

152     • 

409 

M  m  2 

532  INDEX    OF    TUNES 


PAG 

ES 

• 

Music 

Notes 

Lord  Gregory    ...... 

126     . 

398 

Lord  Ronald,  my  son    ..... 

324     • 

491 

Louis,  what  reck  I  by  thee        .... 

73    - 

377 

Lull  me  beyond  thee     ..... 

3*4    • 

487 

Lumps  of  pudding         ..... 

217     . 

444 

McGrigor  of  Rora's  lament        .... 

295     . 

478 

McLauchlin's  Scots-measure      . 

61     . 

372 

McPherson's  rant            ..... 

292     . 

475 

Major  Graham  ...... 

137     • 

404 

Mally  's  meek,  Mally  's  sweet    ... 

146     . 

407 

Mally  Stuart      ...... 

278     . 

469 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots  lament     .... 

261     . 

461 

Mary's  dream     ...... 

276     . 

469 

Miller's  wedding  (Comin  thro1  the  rye) 

140    . 

406 

~    Miss  Admiral  Gordon's  Strathspey  (Of  a1  the  airts)     . 

70    . 

375 

Miss  Muir  (Port  Athol)             .... 

42     . 

365 

Morag   ....... 

92     . 

468 

My  ain  kind  dearie,  O  (The  lea-rig}     . 
My  bonie  Lizzy  Baillie               .... 

124    . 
366    . 

397 
366 

My  collier  laddie                        .... 

121       . 

396 

My  jo,  Janet      . 

194      . 

427 

My  lady's  gown                          .... 

153       • 

409 

My  love  is  lost  to  me                 .... 

74     • 

377 

My  love,  she  's  but  a  la  sie  yet  . 

162     . 

4i3 

My  Nanie,  O     .                         .... 

12       . 

354 

My  Peggy's  face                         .... 

28       . 

361 

My  wife  's  a  wanton  wee  thing  .... 

196       . 

428 

My  wife  she  dang  me    ..... 

I97       . 

429 

Niel  Gow's  lament        ..... 

165    : 

414 

•     Nithsdale's  welcome  hame        .... 

272    . 

467 

O,  an  ye  were  dead,  guidman    .... 

224    . 

446 

O  bonie  lass,  will  ye  lie  in  a  barrack    . 

i73    • 

416 

O,  can  ye  labour  lea  (Auld  lang  syne)  . 

131    • 

400 

O  dear  minny    ...... 

149    . 

408 

O'er  the  hills  and  far  away       .... 

234    • 

451 

O'er  the  moor  amang  the  heather 

344     • 

5°i 

O,  ken  ye  what  Meg  o'  the  mill  has  gotten  ?    . 

172     . 

416 

On  the  cold  ground  (My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground} 

94    • 

383 

Oonagh's  Waterfall                                  ; 

86    . 

381 

Open  the  door  softly     ..... 

128     . 

399 

Oran  an  Aoig     ...... 

254    • 

458 

Oran  gaoil          ...... 

77    • 

378 

Over  the  water  to.  Charlie          . 

277    . 

432 

Paul's  Steeple  (7  am  the  Duke  of  Norfolk} 

425    • 

425 

Peggy  Bawn      ...... 

3°4     • 

482 

Peggy  Ramsay  ...... 

174    . 

416 

Phoebe  

20    . 

357 

Port  Gordon  (  When  the  king  comes  oer  the  water) 
Push  about  the  jorum     ..... 

10      . 

236     . 

354 
452 

Rattlin,  roarin  Willie    .  .  .  .  .     212     .    441 


INDEX    OF    TUNES  533 


PAGES 

• 

Mtisic 

Notes 

Red  House  (see  Whare  ivad  bonie  Annie  lie  ?} 

9     • 

353 

Robie  donna  gorach      ..... 

243     • 

455 

Robin  Adair  (see  Aileen  a  roon} 

45     • 

366 

Robin  shear'd  in  hairst               .... 

162     . 

412 

Rory  Dall's  port             .             .             . 

81     . 

379 

Roslin  Castle     ...... 

294    . 

477 

Rothiemurche's  rant      .'             .             .             .             . 

96     . 

384 

-  Ruffian's  rant  (Roy's  wife]         .... 

213     • 

442 

Russian  air         .             .             .             . 

367     . 

367 

Saw  ye  my  father  ? 

100    . 

386 

Scots  Queen      ...... 

67     . 

374 

Scroggam           .             .             .             .             .             . 

188     . 

423 

Seventh  of  November    ..... 

36     . 

363 

She  rose  and  let  me  in  . 

64    . 

373 

Sic  a  wife  as  Willie  had             .... 

190     . 

425 

Sir  John  Malcolm          ..... 

299     • 

479 

Sodger  laddie    ...... 

221       . 

446 

Soldier's  joy       . 

220      . 

445 

Steer  her  up 

'75    • 

4J7 

Stingo,  or  the  Oyl  of  Barley     .... 

480    . 

480 

Strathallan's  lament       ..... 

279    • 

47° 

Sweet  's  the  lass  that  loves  me  .... 

300    . 

480 

Sweet  Willy  (  Willy  's  rare  and  Willy  'sfair}  . 

34°     • 

500 

Tarn  Glen  (Old  Hew  son  the  Cobbler}    . 

168     . 

415 

Tarn  Lin             ...... 

328     . 

492 

The  auld  man's  mare  's  dead     .... 

346    . 

502 

The  bashful  lover           ..... 

106    . 

39° 

The  birks  of  Abergeldie             .... 

104    . 

389 

The  Black  Watch          

248    . 

457 

The  blue  ey'd  lassie      ..... 

38    • 

364 

The  bob  o'  Dumblane  ..... 

182     . 

420 

The  bonie  brier-bush     ..... 

280    . 

47° 

The  bonie  lad  that  's  far  awa    .... 

71     • 

376 

The  bottom  of  the  punch-bowl 

218    . 

444 

The  braes  o'  Ballochmyle          .... 

16    . 

? 

356 

The  brave  lads  of  Galla  Water  (Galla  Water} 

125    . 

397 

The  broom  blooms  bonie           .             . 

348    . 

502 

The  butcher  boy             ..... 

.56    - 

37o 

The  Campbells  are  comin          .... 

319    • 

489 

The  captain's  lady  (Mount  my  baggage.   Cadie  laddie} 

109    . 

39i 

The  cardin'  o't  . 

198    . 

429 

The  carlin  o'  the  glen    .             .             .                      t   . 

135    • 

402 

The  children  in  the  wood          .... 

256    . 

459 

The  collier's  bonie  lassie            .... 

44    . 

366 

The  collier's  bonie  lassie            . 

1  86     . 

421 

The  collier's  dochter  (The  nine  pint  eogie} 

186    . 

421 

The  cordwainer's  march             .... 

47    • 

367 

The  country  lass            ..... 

122       . 

396 

The  cuckoo        .             .             .             .             . 

120      . 

396 

The  deuks  dang  o'er  my  daddie  (Buff  coaf} 

193      - 

427 

The  dragon  of  Wantley              .... 

258      . 

460 

The  drummer    .             .             . 

174      . 

4J7 

The  gallant  weaver  (The  weaver's  march*} 

II9      . 

395 

534  INDEX    OF    TUNES 


PAGES 

Music      "Notes 

The  gardener's  march   .  .  .  «  .107          390 

The  German  lairdie       .....     336 


The  hemp-dresser  (The  deifs  awa  wt'  the  exciseman}      202 
The  Highland  balou      .  .  .  .  .136 

The  Highland  laddie    .  .  .  .  .282 

The  Highland  lassie      .....     287 

The  Highland  widow's  lament  .  .  .278 

The  highway  to  Edinburgh      .  .  .  .166 

The  hunt's  up    .  -.  .  .  .  .     456 

The  job  of  journey  work  .  .  .  .65 

The  jolly  beggars  .  .  .  .  .219 

The  killogie      .  .  .  .  .  .269 

The  king  o'  France  he  rade  a  race         .  .  .          .230 

The  lads  of  Leith  .  .  .  .  .32 

The  lass  that  made  the  bed  to  me         .  .  .315 

The  lazy  mist    ......     298 

The  Lochmaben  harper  ....     338 

The  Lothian  lassie         .  .  .  .  .180 

The  lovely  lass  of  Inverness      .  .  .  .281 

The  maid's  complaint   .  .  .  .72 

The  mill,  mill  O  .  .  .  .  .     244 

The  moudiewart  .  .  .  .  .169 

The  muckin  o'  Geordy's  byre   .  .  .  .52 

The  musket  salute  (Failte  na  miosg)     .  .  .     240 

The  old  Highland  laddie  .  .  .  .284 

The  ploughman  .  .  .  .  .138 

The  poor  thresher          .....     349 

The  posie  .  .  .  .  .  .116 

The  Quaker's  wife         .  ..  .  .  -39 

The  rantin  laddie  .....     330 

The  rashes  ( 7^he  wee  wee  German  lairdie)        .  .       79 

The  reel  o'  Stumpie       .  .  .  .  .183 

The  rowin't  in  her  apron  (My  love  is  fix\l  on  Donald)     332 
The  secret  kiss  .  .  .  .  .  .     134 

The  slave's  lament        .  .  .  .  .297 

The  sow's  tail  to  Geordie          .  .  .  .50 

The  souters  o'  Selkirk  .  .  .  .  .321 

The  sutor's  dochter       .  .  .  .  '83 

The  tailor's  march         .  .  .  .  .     154 

The  weary  pund  o'  tow  .  .  .  .192 

The  weaver  and  his  shuttle  (see  Jockey  s  gray  breeks)  .      68 
The  whistle       .  .  .  .  .  .204 

The  white  cockade        .  .  .  .  .271 

The  winter  it  is  past      .....     140 

The  wren's  nest  .  .  .  .  .182 

There  are  few  good  fellows  when  Jamie's  awa  (  There'll 

never  be  peace  till  Jamie  comes  harne,  357)    .  .     283 

There 's  news,  lasses,  news        .  .  .  .184 

This  is  no  mine  ain  house          .  .  .  .90 

Three  gude  fellows  ayont  the  glen        .  .  .207 

Thro'  the  lang  moor     .  .  .  .  .80 

To  daunton  me  .....     159 

To  the  weaver's  gin  ye  go          .  .  .  .18 


497 
431 
403 
472 

473 
469 
414 
45<5 

374 


447 
363 

488 

479 
499 
419 

47J 
376 
455 
4i5 
369 
453 
472 
404 
5°3 
394 
364 
494 
379 
420 

494 
402 

479 
368 
•490 
380 
409 
426 
482 

<& 

406 
419 

472 
420 
382 
432 
379 
411 

357 


Up,  and  warn  a',  Willie  .  .  .  .     266     .     465 


INDEX    OF   TUNES 


535 


PAGES 

Music  Notes 
Up  in  the  morning  early  (Cold  and  raw.    Stingo  or 

the  Oyl  of  Barley}      .            .            .            .            .  301  .  480 

Wae  is  my  heart             .....  141  .  406 

Wantonness  for  evermair           .            .            .            .  181  .  419 

Wee  Totum  Fogg          .....  307  .  484 

We  're  a'  noddin             .....  200  .  430 
Whare  wad  bonie  Annie  lie  ?  (Rood  house  rant.    Red 

house.    Where  will  oiir  goodman  lie  ?  394)     .             .  9  •  353 

What  shall  I  do  with  an  auld  man?"     .             .             .  176  .  417 

What  will  I  do  gin  my  hoggie  die  ?                    .             .  296  .  478 

When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit                .             .             .  136  ,  403 

When  she  cam  ben  she  bobbit                .             .             .  171  .  416 
Where  Helen  lies           .            .            .            .            .337-497 

Whistle,  an' I'll  come  to  ye,  my  lad      .             .             .  170  .  -415 

Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't             .             .             .             .  187  .  421 

Whistle  o'er  the  lave  o't             .             .             .             .  225  .  447' 

Willie  brew'd  a  peck  o'  maut    .             .             .             .  210  .  440 

Will  ye  lend  me  your  loom,  lass  ?         .            .            .  142  .  407 

Ye  Jacobites  by  name    .....  264  .  464 

Ye'll  ay  be  welcome  back  again             .             .             .  158  .  411 

Ye  Manchline  belles      .             .             .             ,  8  .  353 

Ye're  welcome,  Charlie  Stewart             .            .            .  25  .  358 


Burns  and  Music. — Writes  for  a  favourite  reel,  351.  A  tune  which  he  could 
not  get  out  of  his  head,  352.  The  measure  so  difficult,  354.  Recommends  an 
air,  356 ;  manyjbeautiful  airs  wanting  words,  356.  Verses  to  suit  a  favourite 
air,  357  ;  describes  a  tune,  357.  Notation  from  the  voice,  358.  Refers  tune  to 
musical  editor,  361.  Encloses  a  tune,  365.  A  cramp'd  out-of-the-way 
measure,  366.  Old  titles  in  the  spirit  of  the  air,  367.  Describes  a  Gaelic  air, 
368.  A  favourite  air,  369  ;  Lady  Heron's  air  '  pretty  enough,'  369.  Ancient 
song  to  Ewe-bughts,  371.  His  song  suits  the  air,  373.  MS.  of  a  tune,  374., 
An  English  song  to  the  air,  378.  Composing  for  different  tunes,  379.  One  of 
his  best  songs  for  The  sutor's  dochter,  380 ;  rhythm  of  an  air  peculiar  and 
difficult,  380.  Better  mediocre  verses  for  an  air  than  none  at  all,  381  ;  favourite 
air  for  which  he  wrote,  381.  The  rhythm  of  the  music  puzzled  him,  382  ; 
instructs  Thomson  how  air  should  be  printed,  382  ;  does  not  consider  that  his 
song  fits  the  air,  382  ;  refers  to  the  best  set  of  the  air,  382.  Until  he  is  master 
of  a  tune  he  cannot  compose  for  it,  383.  Apologizes  for  his  inelegant  musical 
taste,  385  ;  unless  pleased  with  the  air  he  cannot  write  verses  for  it,  385  ;  dis- 
likes Cauld  Kail  and  result,  385.  Suiting  the  rhythm  of  the  air  exactly,  386  ; 
'  Deplorably  stupid '  song  for  Duncan  Gray,  386 ;  one  of  his  favourite  airs, 
386.  His  song  with  a  new  tune  would  mar  its  celebrity,  388.  Song  for  the 
reel  Cambdelmore,  392.  Chorus  to  be  sung  with  the  first  part  of  the  air,  396. 
Desires  to  examine  all  the  poetry  proposed  to  be  set  to  music,  397.  Writes  for 
the  air  Allan  Water,  400  ;  declines  to  write  for  an  air,  400.  Describes  how 
tune  should  be  printed,  403.  Stanzas  for  the  style  of  the  tune,  404.  Difficult 
to  write  for  the  tune,  405.  Disapproves  of  the  arrangement  of  the  air,  407 ; 
an  excellent  set  of  the  tune  in  McGibbons,  407.  English  verses  for  Roys 
Wife,  408.  Chorus  for  the  first  part  of  the  air,  411.  Old  .air  precluding 


536 


BURNS    AND    MUSIC 


sentiment,  412.  Directs  how  air  should  be  printed,  414;  song  for  Lord 
Elcho's  favourite,  414;  Tarn  Glen  for  the  tune  of  Mall  Roe,  415.  Setting  in 
Musettm  unsatisfactory,  415;  verses  for  Whistle  and  /'//  come  to  ye,  415.  Directs 
how  air  should  be  printed,  417 ;  encloses  a  copy  of  the  air,  417.  Has  written 
for  four  Irish  airs,  418.  Writes  for  Three  gtide  fellows,  432.  Mediocre  air, 
434.  Agrees  to  write  for  Lumps  o'  pudding,  444.  Hey  tutii  taitie  fills  his 
eyes  with  tears,  448.  Does  not  appreciate  O'er  the  hills,  451.  Verses  for  an 
excellent  air,  452.  Declines  to  alter  his  verses  as  he  considers  they  suit  the 
music,  455.  Song  for  a  favourite  air,  466.  Composes  an  air  in  Old  Scotch 
style,  477.  Making  stanzas  suit  the  music,  481.  Original  of  Lochaber,  491. 

Interleaved  Museum  and  Cromek's  Beliques — 353,  356,  357,  357,  358, 
361,  362,  362,  363,  363,  363,  364,  365,  367,  371,  372,  374,  375,  375,  376,  376, 
377»  378,  381,  382,  389,  390,  390,  394,  394,  395,  396,  397,  399,  400,  402,  405, 
406,  409,  410,  410,  411,  413,  414,  414,  414,  415,  420,  421,  421,  424,  427,  431, 
433,  4&  441,  442,  443,  447,  453.  455,  458,  465,  467,  467,  468,  469,  470,  471, 
472,  473,473,  475,  477,  478,  478,  479,  480,  482,  482,  488,  490,  491,  491. 

fl      * 
vni^ft; 


OXFORD  I    HORACE    HART 
PRINTER  TO   THE   UNIVERSITY 


PR 
43 
D5 


Burns,   Robert 

The  songs  of  Robert  Burns 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
CARDS  OR  SLIPS  FROM  THIS  POCKET 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO  LIBRARY